


When the Rad Storms Come, Keep Dansing

by ElZeeKay



Series: Radstorms [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 96,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElZeeKay/pseuds/ElZeeKay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sole Survivor, called "Z", has fallen deeply in love with Paladin Danse, who has automatic death sentence if found by the Brotherhood of Steel. Together they discover the secrets behind his making and will have to face impossible obstacles stay together. A secret, deadly organization, who they call The Black League is determined to destroy everything Z is trying to build and tear them apart in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From My Journal I, with Holotape Transcription

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Paladin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Paladin).



Chapter 1: Chapter 1 Z's Journal Entry 1  
________________________________________  
Z's Journal After The Nuclear Ending  
I was looking back to reflect on why on Earth I joined the Brotherhood of Steel when I was already appointed General of the Minutemen, and how, after everything I've experienced, I gave it all up.  
I can see how easily I overlooked the unforgiving black and white view of the world of the BOS by focusing on the power for good they offered the Commonwealth. And, let's face it, vertibirds swooping down, with miniguns blazing, on man-eating mutants or butchers and torturers of the innocents like raiders or Gunners is nothing less than breathtaking! The gleaming weapons, glorious power armor and clean, well-fitting field uniforms just seemed to instill confidence and resonate righteousness, law and order. Adding to their glamor, their terminology was the stuff of romance too. Knights and Paladins, Lancers, Scribes and Elders. Everyone is your brother or your sister which gives one a powerful sense of acceptance, appreciation and belonging to this military family. The difference between right and wrong were presented as clearly as the contrast between black and white. (I can see how that would prove irresistible to an orphan boy, as Danse was, struggling for survival.) I was managing to still lead the Minutemen, too, with starting out or helping settlements get established and setting up defenses against the dark. And this new post-atomic war world can be very, very dark.  
But the real reason, if I am very honest with myself, was Paladin Danse. He has no other name – at least not one that he remembers having, and has never chosen to give himself a first name.  
These times bring out the very worst in men, but they also bring out the best. And to me, the best was personified by Paladin Danse. Here was a man, a strong, beautiful man, who ran towards danger, not away. A man who would sacrifice his life for any innocent settler and for any of his military comrades - literally without any hesitation. After running a few missions with him, I started emulating his mad dashes towards the enemy too. Of course, power armor helps in the courage department. Except for mini nukes, or direct missile strikes you can take several hits and not slow down. As Danse says, "Give me a laser rifle and my power armor and I can take on the world." It really feels that way and stimpaks are miraculous. They stimulate the body's natural healing response and amplify it up to an amazing rate of speed, so you can be healing up devastating wounds as you're still in battle.  
I was a fighter with words in the courtroom, and, now, I am as at home with a .308 or plasma rifle as I used to be with a legal pad. There is no hesitation now, no terror, just a deep need to protect my people in the most direct way possible. And they are my people. Something has changed deep within me, from civilized lawyer to fierce warrior. I will never be what I once was.  
I will always respect and care for Preston, too, but with Danse it was, I think, love at first sight for me, which is admittedly crazy. Well, maybe not, considering what I was to find out later.  
I still and will always love my husband Nate, murdered in cold blood by Kellogg under the direction of the Institute. To me, this was only 8 months ago, but in reality it was over 6 decades past. Yet, although less than a year ago, my previous life has become a distant, hazy dream, that seems to belong to someone else, and has been completely displaced by a waking nightmare populated with poison air and water, dead trees, monsters and evil men and women.  
Yet, into this nightmare, changing it into something I can live with, came the good men and women, like Danse and Preston, Piper, Nick & Ellie, Hancock and Curie...the Minutemen and Scribes and Knights of the Brotherhood, settlers, farmers and families, and so many I have met on my travels through the Commonwealth, who fight back against the nightmare, the dark tide that seems to replenish itself endlessly.  
My Shaun, a dying gift from my son, says, "Can't you feel it, Mom? There's hope in the air, a feeling that everything's going to be all right." And, yes, child of my heart, I do feel it.  
The nightmare is losing to this new dream, where life persists in this arid wasteland, and life-long friends are made and where I have found a love I thought only existed in romance novels or fairy tales. Maybe the intensity of this life I now lead - facing death daily, the adrenaline rushes, - make my emotions so unbelievably heightened, but I love Danse so deeply that I am left trembling with the intensity of feeling. And, amazingly, he appears to reciprocate this crazy, mad love in depth and in passion.  
And, so, here I write my journal, and whether it disappears and is never shared or is passed down to my children's children, doesn't matter really. I need to write this down for my own sake. It is my hope and prayer that the world to come will be a kinder place and not so deadly and that my children and their children and on through the ages might have a chance for decent, happy lives and I would wish that they have just half the luck in love I have had in my own life, and that will be rich and beautiful enough for any one lifetime.  
I lost a Provisioner today. The deathclaw went after him, as I was reloading my missile launcher - I was too slow. He was a good man, from Coastal Cottage. I will have to let his people know. And see if anyone is willing to take his place. I need more battle-hardened settlers, as the Provisioners need guardsmen as they travel these roads. I will not send these brave folks to their deaths without protection again!  
Looking back...again...I am really starting here in the middle. Maybe I will fill in more later. I guess I am starting with Danse. The best place for me to start.  
My first mission with Danse was a test, I'm sure, of my worthiness for the Brotherhood. I guess I passed with flying colors, because he told me I had good instincts and he was glad to have me at his back. After Danse and I fought through three dozen or so Gen 2 synths at Arc Jet and retrieved the deep range transmitter Scribe Haylen needed, we we're both exhausted and too far from Cambridge to make it there in one night. Danse suggested we bivouac before we were too worn out to defend ourselves. He said it was a tactically sound practice. He showed me how to tie up our tarps, and line the bottom of our makeshift shelter with shrubbery, leaves and branches to insulate it from the frozen earth. We ate a simple meal, and Danse, to my delighted surprise, produced two cold Gwinnett Stouts to salute our success. Then we retired for the night, having set up simple trip wires all around the entire perimeter, removing the fusion cores from and posing our armor to look like watchmen on post.  
Laying there, my UltraThin Camp Blanket wasn't doing its promised job and I started shivering. I wasn't generating enough body heat to keep warm. My shivering became more pronounced and was not letting up. It felt like an eternity, but was probably only 20 minutes, and then, my teeth started chattering. After fighting off super mutants and glowing cockroaches the size of dogs, I was going to die of hypothermia on a camp out.  
Danse must've heard me, because he rolled over to look at me sleepily and said, "Soldier, get yourself over here. I'm cold."  
My eyebrow raised. He didn't seem or sound chilled to me. Looking back, I know now this was typical of Danse. He is innately kind. Wanting to live through the night and get some much needed sleep, I obeyed with alacrity.  
"Common practice in the field," Danse assured me.  
Having been a happily married woman, I know how to snuggle. It involves a lot of wriggling to get as much body contact as humanly possible. And Danse was deliciously warm, providing a lovely relief to my bone deep chill. My front was to his, my head on his chest, and I pulled his arm to encompass my still cold back. He smelled of rich male musk, dried sweat and warm flesh. I imagined his skin would taste of salt. He covered us with both of our UTC blankets, and, after several minutes, the inner freeze started to thaw. I sighed with the pleasure of it. My shivering slowed, then finally stopped and I quickly fell into a contented, exhausted sleep.  
I woke up with my back snuggled into Danse's front, spoon-style, still toasty warm. Something hard was poking me ...a stick or tree root? I wriggled a little, away from the protuberance so rudely poking my rump. I was only half awake, barely aware of my surroundings, when was I startled awake by Danse's sudden lunging up and out of our little shelter and tearing off into the woods.  
Oh. It hadn't been a tree root after all.  
I pretended sleep when he came back in a few minutes and eased himself back into our little nest, his back to mine. I didn't want him to be embarrassed. I smiled to myself. I lazily lingered on the idea that Danse wanted me. Fraternization with civvies or BOS under one's command was forbidden by the Elder. Tell that to my traitorous body, which was now informing me that it was ready for some fraternizing! I withheld all body movement, holding very still despite my very strong desire to snuggle up against his warmth again. I felt his body soften in relaxation and his breathing slow down as he fell back asleep. After a while, so did I.  
The sunrise roused me. I inspected the trip wires and checked for signs of unwanted visitors. Our site was undisturbed as far as I could tell. After checking out the area as best I could, I came back, gathering, as I went, an armful of dead wood and kindling, prepared a small fire, boiling some purified water and making tea out of dried mutfruit leaves. Not coffee or black tea, (would I ever taste them again in this life?) but I have developed a taste for mutfruit leaf tea. I heated up a couple of stingwing filets, the smell making my mouth water.  
Me, eating bugs. Yup. Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying.  
I was so deep in thought, that when he touched my shoulder, I startled, spilling hot tea over my hand. I yelped, a distinctly feminine sound. And Danse's brows went up at the very un-warrior like sound I made.  
I shrugged, embarrassed at being caught off guard, and diverted attention by handing him a mug of tea and then his breakfast.  
He gave me a smile and his thanks.  
Well, I told myself, watching him surreptitiously as he wolfed down his stingwing and drank his tea with obvious appreciation, just because a man has a natural, physical response to a female, doesn't imply anything personal or emotional - it just a biological reaction.  
I needed to get my mind back on my own personal mission - finding Shaun, first and foremost and cleaning up the Commonwealth on the way.  
 

________________________________________  
I am including here the holotape recordings I did (when I had the chance) from the awful times I would rather forget, but must not. Nat transcribed the holos for me.

 

Holotape 1 Transcription by Nat

"I haven't had the time to record in my holotape journal. It's been too crazy. My fragile world, so newly rebuilt, is crumbling. No, not crumbling. Disintegrating. Perhaps destroyed. Ahhh….  
There's too much too tell. And I'm too tired to tell it all. (audible deep sigh) I am numb and broken and I don't know if I am going to come out of this sane or whole.  
Maybe they'll be time later to recount all the details for posterity, but here is the gist of what happened. Mama Murphy had told me I needed to go to Diamond City to find Shaun. I had run into so many urgent situations, starting with the settlements Preston had sent me to and then catching Haylen's distress call and answering it. If Danse had not asked for my help, I would have been there sooner. For some reason, I couldn't refuse him.  
So, I had been delayed, but I had to get there as soon as I could.  
So, Danse had sent me off to do solo missions for Haylen for tech recovery and "cleaning up" the commonwealth missions from cranky Ryhs, which meant kill all "abominations." Unfortunately, they mean anything or anyone that's mutated, hostile or not, I took time between these missions to follow up this lead.  
Dogmeat and I traveled to Diamond City where I met Piper, owner, reported, editor of the Publick Occurences and her little sister Nat, "sales manager" of the local paper and the Mayor.  
Mayor McDonough referred me to the Valentine Detective Agency. That's a whole story in itself, which I may recount someday when I have the leisure time or the will and energy to do so.  
Piper herself seemed to know a bit about everything going on and her latest issue addressed the Institute replacing humans with synths and about one synth who went on a berserk rage and killed everyone he could. She listened with avid interest but also deep sympathy to my story and my need. She too told me I should talk to Nick Valentine, Detective.  
Oh my gosh – I can't do this now. I can't do this. I'll try later. "  
End of holotape 1.

 

Holotape 2 Transcription by Nat

"Where do I start again? Oh, yeah, the infamous Detective Valentine. What is amazing to me then and still today, was that in the xenophobic Diamond City, Valentine is a synth. Not a gen 2 or the human looking gen 3, but something in between. "Thrown out on a trash heap," he described himself. His flesh didn't hold up well for two plus centuries – but his face, at least, his face is intact. His eyes, though, are the same as gen 2s. Creepy, glowing, yellow irises. But when he talks, all that is forgotten. He is the perfect detective – smart, kind, and really good at putting the scattered pieces of clues together into a whole story. I will never be able to repay Valentine for all his help.  
Valentine informed me that by my description, the man who had killed my Nate and stolen Shaun was named Kellogg. And this Kellogg had a house in this very city. He had been gone by all accounts for some time now. Nick suggested we check out his house. The mayor after hearing a bit of my story, loaned us the key to get into the house. Inside was a hidden room. Dogmeat took his time sniffing everything which gave Valentine the hope that he just might be able to track Kellogg. So we went, with my dog leading, and followed Kellogg's trail. Dogmeat was amazing. He took us to him at an old fort called Fort Hagen. I sent Dogmeat back "home" before we entered the Fort. "Home" was, for right now, the Cambridge Police Station. I hoped he made it. Fighting our way through a dozen synths, as we got closer and closer to him, Kellogg, on a tinny intercom, tried to warn me off several times, telling me to let this go. As if I could! There was an element of admiration in his voice. As if one of his best students had passed his final exam.  
Was I becoming like him? A heartless killer?  
The battle with Kellogg had happened unbelievably fast with both of us moving so fluidly with deadly speed and accuracy. But I was just a breath faster, a microsecond more fluid, maybe because I was younger and in fighting shape. He had left behind bloody rags too. He was recovering from wounds. Or maybe part of him was ready to quit this life. He had got a few good shots in me, but I barely felt them at the time. I have never done Jet, but I bet it feels just like that fight did. Everything slowed down, I could see where Kellogg was aiming for by his eye movement and the barrel of his gun in plenty of time to dance away from the bullet. He went stealth on me, but that didn't slow me down - my heightened senses made the bent light waves obvious to me. It was almost too easy.  
I kept going over what Kellogg had said to me, over and over in my head: that Shaun was alive but unreachable. He was in the Institute itself and it was his happy home. He was older than I expected. The head of the Institute, or the "old man", as Kellogg called him, had ordered him to bring Shaun to live in Diamond City long enough to be taken note of. He believed that he and Shaun were sent there to be bait for me.  
That just didn't make any sense at all.  
First, I was referred to as the back-up, which I assumed meant that whatever use they had for Shaun, could also apply to me. Then why kill Nate? Aren't two back-ups better than one? And if they wanted me, why not just contact me? I would go anywhere to be with my son. Why the weird games? And Kellogg even though the old man had planned for this to happen – for me to kill him, to tie up those nasty loose ends that old man didn't like. Whoever this old man was I hated him. To play with people's lives like they were pawns in a chess game, or like a Greek or Roman god toying mercilessly with mortal men and women. I couldn't wait to meet this man with the god complex and punch him in the nose. Well, after I got my son back, then I would give this old man what-for. I have seen first-hand a synth who was trying to kill the man he was to "replace". I mean, who does such atrocious things? And why? I hoped I could find some answers as well as find my son. What games did the old man have in store for me? He was so devious and far-thinking he must know I was coming.  
We returned to Diamond City, to try and figure out what to do next, since I had killed our only source of information on the whereabouts of the Institute. From there, Detective Valentine took me to this woman named Dr. Amari at the Memory Den in Goodneighbor, because I had these weird devices that had been implanted in Kellogg – one in his brain, two in his body. (Ugh, don't ask how I got them) Dr. Amari, according to Nick Valentine, might be able to retrieve some memories from this cyber-brain implant. It sounded far-fetched, but I had to pursue any chance I had to find Shaun.  
Dr. Amari was a handsome, ageless woman with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. She wore a lab coat and has a throaty, feminine voice with an accent I couldn't identify. The epitome of the brainy woman scientist. She also projected a warm, caring attitude that made me want to trust her immediately.  
I won't give all the details here, but it turned out she needed two brains to accomplish the task and it was Nick and I.  
Seeing Kellogg's life in snippets made me ache with pity and horror at his wretched life. I wasn't the only one to lose a child and a spouse but at least I had loving parents and a good life - so the loss of Nate and Shaun didn't turn me into a heartless monster. Kellogg did become one – right in front of me in these memories. Then it happened – there I was and Nate and Shaun in the cryo chambers – I watched Kellogg shoot my Nate again, me helpless on the inside of the memory and the outside. My baby, screaming in fear and pain, taken away by the clean-room or haz-mat suited figure.  
No. No. I have to stop.  
End of Holotape 2

Holotape 3  
Transcribed By Cub Reporter Nat  
Nat: Where did you learn to fight like you do?  
A: I took Aikido and Karate. But it's Aikido that I love so much. It turns the energy of the assailant back at him or her. And you get to use swords and other weapons. It's awesome. I stayed in shape too, although after Shaun was born, I had to take it easier. I was just starting up my Aikido and workout routines again.  
Nat: What was it like to be frozen for 210 years?  
Z: I don't know. I don't remember. Waking up hurts like hell, though. At first, it's as if your lungs don't know how to draw air, and when you do it burns like fire. I coughed a lot and that hurt like the blazes too. Your mind doesn't function fully for quite a while. Your senses are distorted for several minutes. Every muscle and fiber hurts – kind of like when your foot falls asleep and you try to walk on it. Yeah, it's not something you want to experience again.  
Nat: Ewww. What happened to the other people in the cryo pods?  
Z: I saw it in Kellogg's mind. The Institute person shut off all their life supports – they woke up as they were dying of suffocation. It was awful. And senseless.  
Nat: Oh. (long pause) What was is like in 2077?  
Z: Oh, Nat. It wasn't perfect, but, your life, for instance, would've been going to a lovely school with hundreds of kids your age all together. You’d have classes in math, history, art, writing and so much more. A big cafeteria where you could choose your meals…homework and plays and sports, and shopping, and movies and books, and toys and games, and later dances and dating…and more school. Oh Nat, there were clothes stores all over and shops for every kind of interest. A girl your age would be becoming an expert in shopping. There was time for fun.  
For me, I was about to go back to work for my legal firm. I was a defense attorney. I liked the really tough cases. I went to church every Sunday, went to Aikido three times a week, the gym every morning…I liked cooking amazing meals for Nate and hated housework. We all had cars, so travelling everyday was easy and fun too. Everything was green and beautiful and there were flowers all over the place and fruits and vegetables that you could eat right off the branch or vine or whatever. Well, except for the wintertime, of course, but there were dozens of markets to choose from to buy your food from.  
Nat: Wow. I can't even imagine. Okay, next. Tell me about Nate.  
Z: Nate was US Army. A Lt. Col. in the 2nd Battalion, 108th Infantry Regiment. He had retired and was thinking about going back to school. He liked to tinker a lot and was thinking about getting a degree in engineering. He was funny, smart and very handsome. Brave too. Sarcastic a lot too. We met while he was on leave in 2074 and even though it was very quick, we decided to marry before his leave was over. I think that was the first time in my life I didn't plan something to death before I did it. He was so happy to be a dad, and so proud of our son. He taught me to shoot, too.  
I'm glad he didn't see what the Institute made of our boy. The sons of bitches! Shaun was only 6 months old when all this happened. Nate died trying to stop the Institute from taking our son.  
(In the background)  
"Naaaaat! Where are you? What on earth did you do to our printing press?"  
Nat: I guess we'll finish this interview later….  
Z: I guess so, Piper sounds positively apoplectic.  
Nat: a-pop-what?  
Z: Best hurry, Nat!  
End of Holotape 3


	2. King Arthur, The Prydwen and the Glowing Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z gets closer to discovering the whereabouts of her kidnapped son, but in the meantime finds herself falling more in love with Paladin Danse.

As soon as Nick and I climbed out of Fort Hagen onto the roof, we heard the most amazing sound and it was followed by an awesome sight.

The Brotherhood of Steel had officially arrived in the Commonwealth. In an airship. With a fleet of vertibirds. As we watched in stunned silence, a vertibird detached from the airship and swooped down in our direction and then away. A loud announcement came from the giant ship, in a deep strong male voice that they were the Brotherhood of Steel and lawful citizens had no cause to fear; they meant no harm to civilians.

It soared majestically away, to the northeast.  
I checked my radio band, and found Haylen's frequency, but this time is was Paladin Danse's voice I heard, ordering me back to base. The sound of his voice pulled at my heart urgently and I found that I needed to see him again.

Everything happened so quickly then, it's hard to remember all the happened and in what order.

When I told Paladin Danse where I had been and why, he was amazed, and thankfully, excited rather than angry that I had gone off on my own without letting him know my plans. As an "initiate" he had informed me that I was to obey his orders without question. Of course, he hadn't specifically ordered me not to go off on my own after completing either Rhys or Haylen's assignments.  
He left me for a short while, then informed me that Elder Maxson wanted to meet me.

Oh, goody. My stomach suddenly felt queasy.

But, I reasoned, if I was looking for technology in the Commonwealth, who better than those whose whole aim in life was to collect it? If Maxson could help me find my son, I would join him and follow his orders. As long as they didn't take me away from finding Shaun.

At this moment the Brotherhood's and my goals were one and the same. To find a way into the Institute.

So, Arthur Maxson aboard the Prydwen. Yes, I know my literature and mythology. The King Arthur reference was not far from my thoughts when I met the man that Paladin Danse spoke so highly of.  
He was not a pretty man, not at all the King Arthur image I had in my mind's eye. And under the scars and fierce beard, a seemingly permanent scowl, and harsh haircut, he looked surprisingly young.  
My first meeting with him was him giving a mission briefing to all his officers, full of fire and righteousness, and I was included as one. They looked as one at him with worshipful eyes. He spoke with a powerful charisma and unquestionable authority.

Okay, the King Arthur thing could fit here.

I spoke to him alone, afterwards, and told him in the briefest and most factual, lawyerly manner I could manage what had transpired. I told him my next step was to find this missing scientist who was on the Institute's hit list.

His fierce eyes stayed fixed on me so long, I had to fight not to squirm. I kept my head high and my eyes did not lower. If he wanted to test my mettle, let him. He was not going to meet a woman more determined than me. Ever.

This seemed to work, because he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace as he spoke.

"Well, Knight, I am glad Paladin Danse found you and am impressed by your abilities and obvious intelligence. You seem to be exceptionally resourceful." He stopped and turned to face me, with those piercing steel grey eyes, "Knight Z, you have me at your back now and you are not alone in this anymore." He stared harder, if that were possible, "I do need to know one thing; I need to know if you are solely driven by the need for finding your son or revenge and if that would take precedence over the Brotherhood's needs and mission."

"Of course not, Elder," I lied. I don't lie as a rule. I despise lying. I despise liars. But I needed to find my son and as a lawyer I could keep my face as unreadable as possible. I put on a military, proud, and respectful face (or what I hoped one would look like) and looked him straight in the eye when I said it. No eyebrow twitches. No quiver in my lips.  
He seemed satisfied. He took those intense eyes off me again and resumed his pacing.

"I want you and Danse to pursue this lead. First, go see Quinlan and see if he and his scribes can give you some help in where to start looking for this man. And if you do find him, you should try and see if he might be willing to come to us and join our science staff. He sounds like he could be invaluable. Get acquainted with the Prydwen now. You'll have a bed and footlocker as well as your own suit of power armor. It will need to be fitted for you. See Proctor Ingram for that."

"Yes sir, Elder Maxson."

"Ad Victoriam, Knight," he hit his chest with a thump and turned his back to me to gaze out upon the Commonwealth.

And that was that.

The Glowing Sea

The glowing sea didn't look like any body of water I ever saw, in part, well, because it wasn't water at all - just the huge area around an actual bomb hit. So a giant pool or sea of deadly radiation. The ground was blackened, charred, with strange glowing areas. The small bodies of dark, discolored water made my Geiger counter go crazy. This land had been ravaged, burned and raped: inhospitable to any human who dared to cross it. Every step was precarious and the going was slow.

And Irradiated Mother Nature decided that this was the perfect time for a rad storm. I couldn't see more than three feet ahead at best. Thanks, mom.  
Danse glanced at me every few moments. It's too easy to tell in power armor, because you have to turn your helmet to see to the side. He had donned his helmet, which he preferred to leave off for that very reason. He said for him, it was more protection to be able to see using his peripheral vision than to have the armored helmet. Going into the glowing sea, I was told that without the lead reinforced armor and built in rad scrubbers, and Rad-X, the glowing sea was not survivable.

I felt the stinging of the needle in my thigh. Our suits had been modded to give Rad-X injections at regular intervals for this mission. Procter Ingram is amazing. She is one of the very few on the Brotherhood on the Prydwen who I like. I looked over at Danse and found that I was happy that he was at my side. My power-armored foot landed in a deep gouge in the ruined land, and I felt myself starting to topple. Danse was suddenly there, pulling me back upright. I smiled, but realized of course he couldn't see my face, so I yelled "Thanks, Danse!" I don't know if he heard me over the roar of the storm, but he nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. Oops, left off his title. He didn't seem to mind though.

The ground suddenly shifted with a grinding, tortured sound, and the burnt earth burst open like the exit wound of a high caliber bullet. There are times when power armor feels like a detriment rather than a plus in combat. Balance and agility or leaping away from danger is slower, movement not as free. I brought up my rifle but couldn't steady it as two radscorpions erupted from their underground lairs. With lightning speed, their tails, stingers dripping with venom, struck at me. Both stingers struck my armor, one right after the other, and did no harm, but the force of the blows knocked me back several steps and I still couldn't aim my rifle. So instead I scuttled backwards, pulled the pin on two frag grenades - one! two! - and threw them right at the creepy, shiny, lifeless black eyes - one grenade for each scorp.

One grenade went off perfectly. The scorp lay stunned and leaking. Danse suddenly appeared, delivering the coup de gras, killing the thing with one shot from his laser rifle.

The other radscorp, though, had delved back underground with impossible speed, and the grenade exploded, making a new pit in the foul land, but not touching the radscorp which was now nowhere to be seen.  
Danse jogged over to me, much more adept in armor than I would ever be, and touched his helmet to mine.

"Are you alright?" He asked, having to yell close to my helmet so I could hear him over the radstorm, with what sound like real concern.

"Fine, I'm fine," my voice sounded tinny and distant, even shouting to be heard over the violent storm, "Er…will it come back?" I didn't know enough about these creatures to know their hunting habits.  
"Count on it," he yelled, "be ready."

Sure enough, when we were twenty yards further on our route, the radscorp burst up through the ground, but we were ready for it. With both of us blasting at its nasty face, it didn't get a single sting in. Danse had told him that he had seen a radscorpion's claw pinch someone right in half.

I had marked on my pip-boy the area the BOS scribes thought might be the likeliest places to search, but I could barely see the glowing markers on my screen. It looked like we should be pretty much on top of the first site.

How were we supposed to find anything in this pea soup with the wind buffeting us? I reached out to get Danse's attention, and found his arm. I hung on and pulled myself closer and touched my helmet to his.  
"If this storm keeps up, we could walk right past Virgil and never even know it," I yelled.

I felt his nod, and he spoke loudly back, "Look for a place to shelter until the storm passes."

I nodded once. Took one step. There was nothing under my foot and I toppled into an abyss.

I fell through the thick cloud of irradiated mist head over heels, getting vague glimpses of rock and cloud, rock and cloud. Then I hit the ground, and a blinding light lit behind my eyes, then darkness took me.  
As my awareness came back slowly, I realized that I was cradled, power armor and all, in Danse's arms. I couldn't see his eyes through the helmet's visor and there was nothing I would have rather seen at that moment.

My Prydwen, I thought. My fair faced Paladin.

Was my head damaged, or something? Where did that come from?

Oh, well of course - he had to pick me up and to get me back on my feet. Power armor doesn't let you just lay down or sit. I mean you can get up, it just takes way too much time to do so. They made me practice it a dozen times before they signed off on my taking my assigned suit of armor.

"I guess I found a shelter from the storm." I joked, realizing that the wind was nearly muted here and I didn't need to yell.

"Ah, good," his voice cracked, "You hit so hard...I was worried you were ... concussed or worse..." He released me then, somewhat awkwardly and stepped back.  
"Where are we?" I asked, still trying to think clearly.

"A cave, it appears. A deep one." His voice was back to normal.

"Maybe we found Virgil's hideaway by accident," I wondered hopefully.

"If you're up to it, we'll explore this area."

"I'm up to it." Power armor moves with just the slightest effort on your part, kind of like the self-propelled lawn mower I used to use; it's not effortless, but nearly so. My ears were still ringing from the fall, but I could see straight.

We searched the cave, which turned out to be a long tunnel. The glowing fungi was in abundance here and I absently picked some and tucked it away in my pack. Habit now. There had been someone there, and not too long ago, from the state of their belongings. A ham radio was there, turned on. A sleeping bag and empty food containers, an old broken pipe rifle, and empty bags and used up bottles of Rad-X and Radaway. The tunnel on the far end opened up to the glowing sea, but to a more level area. The storm, thankfully, was over. In the distance I could see what looked like an old church, still standing, silhouetted by the orange colored sky. I felt the sting of another auto-injection of Rad-X, and wondered how long we could tolerate the high level of radiation even with the protection we had.

Pointing to the ruined church building on the horizon, Danse said, "This site wasn't one of the areas the scribes indicated. Should we take a look?"

I studied my map on my pip-boy, and frowned. "I think we should look at it on the way back if we've had no luck further on. It's actually closer to the border and the other three sites are pretty much past the cave in the opposite direction."

"Good. I concur," he said. "But the opening on the other end is high up and too steep to get up, so I think we should go around this mountain, if we can."

I wished my map had topography on it, but it didn't. I nodded, and we started off to the west, looking for a pass or path through the rocky heights to the south.

The trudging and eerie silence of the glowing sea was beginning to make me deeply uneasy, plus my head was hurting enough to fill my focus.

"Paladin Danse," I said as we kept walking, "I can't stand much more of this place. Please talk to me. I need a distraction. Maybe you could tell me about your childhood. What was it like?"

"Well, alright," he said slowly, (with reluctance, I thought.)

He cleared his throat and began, "I can't remember my early childhood. I don't remember any mother or father or siblings. I am guessing I was about 10 years old. I just remember being hungry all the time, and that the only way I found enough caps to get food or water was to scavenge. I lived in the shell of an old pre-war apartment house. In the basement, in a place that I could only get to because of my size. Two other scavengers lived nearby. I hid from them too, because either one of them would've sold me to raiders or Gunners of they could've, I'm pretty sure. I would sell my finds to the local caravans that passed by and buy my supplies from them. Just surviving and barely making it. I ended up coming upon a major find for sellable junk and took as much as I could carry and went to Rivet City."

"Rivet City? Never heard of it."

"It was an old aircraft carrier. Made into the biggest city in the Capital Wasteland. I opened a junk stand there. Then I met Cutler. He came from one of the settlements in the northern part of the Capital Wasteland. He had run away from a father that beat him one time too often. His mother had been killed by super mutants during one of their frequent raids when he was only 5-years old. He wasn't doing well by the time he got to me. He was so thin, and weak from dehydration. He had taken too many rads from drinking bad water and eating whatever he could find. So, I fed him, shared my water, and gave him RadAway. We were of an age. I think we were probably around 12." 

He froze, held up a hand, and hissed, "We're being stalked."

Both our weapons were out and ready when the deathclaw launched itself at us from the rocky pinnacle above us. This thing was darker than any deathclaw I had seen before and it had areas on its body that glowed bright green. Weird and creepy.

Deathclaws like to fight up-close and personal. Imagine a T Rex mixed with Godzilla and you get the idea. Except, thank the Lord, they don't have laser eyes.  
We both landed shots to its most vulnerable spot, the belly. I think we got five shots in total before it was on Danse. Its huge claw swiped him, and I saw steel fly. His armor was damaged badly. Danse was left unbalanced, and open for another vicious bite or blow from the beast.

I picked up and heaved a good sized rock at its back and yelled at it, "Hey, ugly, come and get some!"

You really shouldn't egg on a deathclaw, but I wasn't about to let Danse get mauled or killed.

It turned its flat, black eyes to me and roared so loudly, the ground shook. It launched itself at me faster than a feral. And that's fast, believe me.

I got two more shots in his belly and then I was buried under 2 tons of monster. I dug out my combat knife and started stabbing with every ounce of strength I had - and that was enhanced by my armor. I was still howling curses and attacking and stabbing, when I realized it was quite dead. I was struggling to wriggle out when an armored hand grasped my forearm and pulled me out the rest of the way.  
He looked at me, the bloodied knife in my hand, to the Deathclaw and back again. Then he started laughing.

I was bewildered. He couldn't see my expression, so I thunked his arm and spread out my hands, "What gives? What's funny?"

"It's just that..." he chortled again, "it's just that Arthur Maxson became a legend for fighting a deathclaw with only a knife… and here you are...an untrained new knight..."  
I rolled my eyes, which he couldn't see, and shrugged, which he couldn't see.

"Hmmm. I see," was all I said, wiping my knife off on the Deathclaw's hide. "Let's keep moving unless we want to meet Grendal's mother."

"Okay, Beowulf," he said back.

Wow. He was a reader. Oh, be still my heart.

Seconds tick slowly by in the Glowing Sea. Hours are an eternity.

After we had battled a few nasty flying insects (the size of large house cats with wings) it was just trudging endlessly. The weight of the atmosphere tasted of despair and death.

"Tell me more about Cutler," I asked Danse finally, about to lose my composure, and maybe start screaming at the poor land. It wasn't its fault mankind had been idiotic and blown up the world.  
He nodded once. We had fallen into a rhythm – me lengthening my strides a bit, him shortening his. We could hear each other in regular speaking voices.

"Cutler was a redhead with freckles and blue eyes that seemed to get darker when he was feeling any strong emotion," Danse's head tilted down then back up, like Dogmeat does when he wonders what on earth I'm up to. "Which was more often than not." I imagined him smiling under that helmet.

Danse continued, "He was rather short and on the thin side, but he was very quick on his feet. He had a strong sense of justice and fairness. But he was determined not to be like his father. He had decided he would never hit, shoot or kill anyone or anything in anger. And he never did, the whole time I knew him. He got into it with one of the scavvers from the area on one of our junk searches. We had separated to cover more ground. The scavver had lured him into some kind of trap. He had Cutler pinned down and was starting to tie his wrists, when Cutler did this amazing back-flip thing, bit the guy's ear off and howled like a banshee. By the time I got there, the scavver was running away as fast as he could, with Cutler hot on his tail. I joined in the chase, and we finally caught him."

"What did you do with him?" I asked curiously.

"Killed him." He said without any emotion, then he paused, and added, "but neither of us was particularly angry."

"Oh."

"He would've preyed on anyone he thought was weaker than him. It's one thing to live off of scavenging the land and another to live off of scavenging people. If he had left Cutler alone, we never would have started any aggression with him."

"What happened to him, to Cutler?"

Danse's silence filled the air between us; an admission of the deep importance of this first friendship. His only one in his early life. What trauma had erased all memories of his life before being 10 years old? My heart ached for him. So young. About the same age as Shaun was now. But Shaun was supposedly happy. At home and content in the Institute. Well cared for.

"We were two kids running a junk shop – and we were not only making ends meet, we were actually turning a bit of a profit. Cutler was good at bargaining. The caravaners were coming to us now, and respected us. We got good but fair prices out of them and sold at decent prices too. Then while we were taking a break from city life, because we actually had enough caps to hire a part time shopkeeper, and doing a scav run, we ran into two Knights of the Brotherhood. They were taking down a dozen super mutants that would have been the death of us if we had been there without the knights. The power they wielded! The armor! We took a few shots ourselves with our pipe rifles, and helped out as best we could – a couple of skinny teenagers. After all the mutants were dead – every one of them - I think the Knights were a little impressed with us.

"When the Brotherhood came to Rivet City on a recruitment run, Cutler and I looked at each and without any hesitation we joined. Neither of us wanted to be junk merchants or scavvers our whole lives. That was just survival."

"It's a good thing to aspire to a higher call." I said.

"Yes, it is. We did well. They trained us, taught us, fed us and respected us. We never imagined such a life. Elder Lyons was Elder then. He … well, that's another story, but a lot of the Brotherhood thought he was soft and had strayed from the Codex. Which he did.

"Well, Cutler and I were together as much as possible, but we got sent on separate missions here and there – to keep us from losing our focus on the Brotherhood and keep the friendship in perspective, I would guess.

"He went on a scouting mission with three other knights. They never came back.

"Normally, because of our limited resources, and knowing ahead of time that you may lose your life during any mission, if someone disappears, we don't send anyone after them But I went to my CO and begged him, pleaded with him to let me find out what happened to them. Cutler was my friend. He was the only family I had ever known. I was sure Cutler was still alive even though it had been some weeks since they left. Somehow I knew I would feel it if he was dead."

"And, he let you? Did you have a team?"

"Yes and yes. He didn't want to risk several knights’ lives after losing four. But he gave me a small team to go and try to find them. My CO didn't want me to go and I was pretty sure he didn't expect me to come back."

He heaved a heavy sigh. "We found them. Well, the remains of them anyway. I took their holotags and destroyed their armor. But Cutler's holotags weren't there and the body count was only three. I knew he was still alive. I ordered the team to stay put while I looked for Cutler, with orders to return to the Citadel if I didn't return in two days' time. The mutants' trail was too easy to follow – they crush and stomp on everything. I found their hive. A super mutant was coming right towards me – and, suddenly, I recognized what used to be my friend. They had killed the other knights – but Cutler – Cutler they gave the FEV. He was nearly completely changed when I caught him alone outside their hive. His eyes were still human, and I knew it was him. He knew me too and knew what was happening to him. Barely hanging onto his humanity. Whatever was still Cutler was fading away fast. We both knew it. He simply nodded at me and I could see he was struggling not to come at me to rip me to pieces. The rage in his eyes. The boy who had sworn never to strike in anger and look what they did to him. They turned him into rage. I killed him with one perfect headshot. I ran back to my team, trying to hold onto my sanity. I had killed the only person in the world that I loved. I had the team retreat. My gunshot had the whole hive of super mutants alerted. They don't like to waste any FEV – I think there's a limited supply for them. We heard them howling with rage when they found Cutler's body." He added as an aside, "We still don't know where they are getting the FEV from."

He continued, "I made it back to the Citadel and reported to my CO and turned over our knight's holotags to Scribe Jameson and let her know their story for the annals. Their sacrifice would not be forgotten.  
And that's Cutler's tale. After his death, I have refused to get deeply attached to another person, because it weakens the Brotherhood, and affects one's judgment."  
And it hurts too much, I thought, and it's the easy way out.

"So to this day, I have a special interest in exterminating super mutants. I hate them beyond words."

Like I hate the Institute and the "old man" I thought to myself.

"Danse, I don't think caring for others weakens you. It's the only thing that makes sense out of what we do. Otherwise, what are we fighting for?"  
"I am beginning to see that, I think," he mused, "and even though I wasn't at all sure recruiting you wasn't just an act of desperation and might be a mistake, you have made me glad of that decision over and over. I have to tell you that us being assigned together has been good. At least for me."

"Thank you."

"I have had so many brave and worthy brothers and sisters working with me side by side – both commanding officers and many under my command. I have not let myself develop feelings for them. And for the first time since I lost my friend, I am beginning to feel I have a friend in you." He added, "I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds, Z."

"I care a lot for you too, Danse," I said wishing I could see his face, "and I am honored that you consider me a friend. I'm glad we've been assigned as a team, too."  
I imagined he was blushing under his helmet.

"Thank you," he said finally, "it's good to know we can speak as confidantes and friends and not just CO and Knight."

"Anytime, Paladin."

We continued on for some time when Danse spoke.

"So what does the 'Z' stand for?" he asked.

"Tit for tat?" I laughed shortly. "Okay, I'll give it up. My name is Zephyra," I said, "the day I was born, my great aunt on my mother's side died, and that, unfortunately, was her name. As soon as I could talk, I would only answer to Z." I smiled, and shook my head. "My surname is Kosek. Middle name plain simple Leah. Initials ZLK. So call me Z. Please."  
"Hmm. I wouldn't have thought of you as a soft breeze, myself. More of a cyclone."

"Ha, ha, Danse," I said dryly, but inwardly I was deeply pleased.

So it wasn't just my heart that was coming back to life.

 

Another rad storm began. It came on hard and violent. I felt the injection in my thigh although it had only been several minutes since my last one. I rapped on Danse's helmet three times to indicate to him that he should inject himself again too. His self-injection mod had been destroyed along with the armor on both legs. He understood and I waited until he had finished and then I held onto Danse's armored arm so I wouldn't lose him. It was like a good old nor'easter, plus a snow blizzard, add a few giant hailstones and lightning – I couldn't see anything.  
The going was slow, but we kept moving, in a careful shuffle so as to avoid falling into a crevice or going over a precipice. I was staying on course to the next target relying completely on my pip-boy.  
The going was getting way too rocky and it was getting to be too precarious to continue. Just when I was about to try and communicate to Danse that I needed to stop, the storm passed – as quickly as it had come. The pea soup thinned, then disappeared.

What I saw took all my words from me.

We were on the edge of a great, glowing crater. There were houses and huts down there and people walking around going about their business.

"They are the Church of the Children of Atom," Danse said, "They were in the Capital Wasteland too. No one understands how they survive the high levels of radiation they worship, but they do. Could be a drastic natural evolutionary mutation – that's the best theory we have anyway. The best way to deal with them is to acknowledge their beliefs. They don't seem to be aggressive unless attacked first. But that's only from my own experiences with them. I don't know much about the Commonwealth group here."

"They worship radiation?" I could not believe my own ears.

"Yes. Atom is their god. It's a mystical religion, based on visions or locutions from Atom. They seek 'division' - which I think is their version of an afterlife. Just be respectful, and we shouldn't encounter any problems." He touched my arm, "I would prefer you take the lead on this. Oftentimes, a female is seen as less of a threat than a male."

I blew out a long breath. Here goes, I thought.

We began to pick our way carefully down into the crater, which gave off an ambient light of yellow-greenish hue. I realized I had seen it before. On the southern horizon, the light always glowed on a clear night.  
It had come from the area where I saw the bomb hit from Sanctuary 210 years ago.

We came across a man, kneeling, facing the deepest part of the crater. He looked like he was wearing a colander strapped to his chest and ragged clothes. He didn't seem to hear or see us, and was praying in a soft, rhythmic voice. He had lost hair in large patches and his skin looked inflamed in spots. This man wasn't completely immune to the radiation – but how on earth was he even alive?  
We left him to his prayer, and approached a woman, wearing identical clothes to the praying man, who was carrying a basket filled with what looked to be loaves of bread to one of the makeshift houses.

"Greetings," I called out, "Daughter of Atom. We mean no harm, but we are seeking someone named Virgil. Could you please aid a stranger?"

"You greet me with amenity, but I can see you are not one of Atom's or you would not be coming to us in such armor. I am Sister Layla. I will take you to Mother Isolde." Her voice was melodious and deep. She spoke slowly but steadily. She still had her intact body, and apparently, her brains. Unlike the praying man, she seemed completely unaffected by the radiation. Except for a darkening of the whites of her eyes.

I wonder where Isolde's Tristam was? Fallen to radiation, while she was left behind? I kept seeing mythological parallels everywhere. It was just a name. It was another tale of a queen's love for her king's knight. Forbidden love.

Buck up, Z, I told myself. Get ready to meet their leader and don't blow it.

Mother Isolde looked to be in her 30s, and like Layla, untouched (except for the eyes) by radiation. She listened to my request. She seemingly held no affection for Virgil, yet didn't seem to wish him particular ill, either. She seemed to just wish he wasn't there.

My Geiger counter became silent. I absently thunked my pip-boy, wondering if it was dying on me. It remained stubbornly silent, but all other functions seemed to be in working order.  
She gave us directions but warned us that Virgil was distinctly unsociable and did not welcome any visitors. In fact he had warned her people that he would not be responsible if they were hurt or killed if they did come to his cave. She invited us back to learn more about Division and Atom if we wanted to know the truth of things. She said we may have come to find Virgil, but Atom's ways were mysterious and Atom had no doubt meant for me to see the Church of his Children.

And so, we left the Children of Atom behind. And my Geiger counter started its incessant clicking again.  
Weird.

"You handled that exceptionally well," Danse said after several moments of exhausting climbing.

"Thanks," I huffed, "but you're right, they don't seem aggressive at all." I saved my breath for the climbing and focused on finding safe footholds and handholds. I was bursting with questions, though.  
Was this mutation nature's way of adapting to radiation, or, as the Church believed, divine intervention? Was this Atom a demon or a god? From what I learned, there would be one survivor amongst a whole group or town or city or family – immune to radiation. But I could see it's not complete immunity for some people – who only have partial immunity and it's damaging them. They are dying slowly. These need to still use rad-x etc., but they are mutated enough to live in a direct hit crater – at least longer than any normal human being. Even super mutants, although having a distinctly better tolerance of radiation than non-mutated humans cannot live in these places. How about ghouls? They can live here too, but don't? What makes a human turn into a ghoul versus dying of radiation poisoning? Is it random or something about the dose of radiation, length, duration and amount of exposure? A formula?

All these thoughts were blown away by the roar of two deathclaws, whose territory we must have stumbled upon.  
I got my combat knife ready.

Take that, King Arthur.

The battle was too long and too hard, and both our power armors were badly damaged by its end. We both had to use stimpaks for our wounds. We didn't bother with the meat or anything. I just wanted to get out of this horrible place.

Danse found the entrance to a cave that was invisible to my eyes. We entered in a little way. He touched his helmet to mine again.

"If Virgil is as unfriendly as Mother Isolde said, do you want me to go in and talk to him?" He asked gently.

"No, I don't think so. I think what you said before might fit here too – I will approach – the mother looking for her child – if he has a heart, he will listen to me."

He shook his head. I couldn't tell what that meant. Darn helmets. "Alright. But if I hear any trouble, I am coming for you."

I nodded. We separated and I carefully picked my way through the narrow cave. Then I heard a sound I am so very familiar with by now – the ticking and clicking of turrets.

I made a sudden decision and pulled a stealth boy out of my pack and turned the knob. Now invisible for all intents and purposes, I made my way slowly past the turrets and past a Protrectron patrolling the cave.  
"Hold it right there! Kellogg? Is that you? Found me did you?"

The voice was grizzled and sounded wrong - like he had a mouthful of steak or something.

He ordered me to stop. I did. The stealth boy wore off, and he just stared at me. I returned the favor, because I was looking at a Super Mutant, not an Institute Scientist.  
Oh, no. If Danse saw him – how could I ever stop him from killing Virgil - and it was Virgil.

We spoke and laid out everything quickly for each other. I told him I had killed Kellogg. He told me he had escaped the institute because he couldn't in good conscience stay with them and their FEV research. He infected himself with a particular strain simply in order to be more rad resistant and escape into the Glowing Sea – the one place he thought he would be safe.  
We made a deal – he would help me get into the Institute if I would help him get the serum he had left behind that might reverse his mutation. He was desperate – as his thinking and functioning as a human was deteriorating.

Just then, Danse entered the chamber. I saw him start to shake and raise his rifle. I jumped in front of Virgil and yelled, "No!"

Virgil looked angry, his nostrils flaring and his teeth bared. Danse's laser rifle was pointed at Virgil's head.

"Stop!" I yelled, angry myself, "Danse, Virgil is still human inside and has a cure for himself which we have to get. He will help us get inside the Institute! Danse!"

He looked blankly at me as if wondering why on earth I was standing between him and his kill. Then he shook his head, and turned around and stomped out without a word. I called back to Brian Virgil a quick apology and promising to bring back his serum if I was able, left.

Danse was just outside the cave's entrance, frozen like a statue.

"Do we have to deal with a mutant?" He finally growled.

"Can you find a way into the Institute? Go ahead! Kill Virgil, kill my only chance to find my son!" I finally let my emotions out of their carefully kept cage and cried. "I have to get there, Danse! I have to, or I will go mad."

"Alright," he said, "Alright, soldier. Calm down. We will use this thing to help us. But if he loses his humanity, I will put him down."

"Deal," I said, gratefully. Danse seemed sane again.

We traveled in silence for some time – both of us perhaps a little embarrassed by our show of lack of control.

Return trips always seem shorter to me. Maybe it's because the urgency to get to point A is past and the stress is lessened. I don't know. Still, the heavy, ugly environment of the Glowing Sea still made me feel like I was coming down with a serious flu. My head still hurt.

I guess Danse felt the same way – even though he projected very little emotion most of the time – because he broke the silence this time.

"May I ask your opinion on something?" he asked.

Surprised, but thankful for anything to take my mind off the endless landscape of death and radiation, I replied, "Sure."

"What do you think of Scribe Haylen?"

This came out of left field. I rattled off the first things to come to mind, "She's a great team member. She has empathy and brains and courage. She's really on top of her game in the tech department. She knows where to find the stuff and how to make use of a lot of it. I really like her too. She's made every effort to make me feel wanted. She's good stuff. Is that what you were asking?"  
"No. Not really. I know those things and it's not her performance as a scribe that I was thinking of. Actually, I am worried about her."

A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at that. At first I thought she and Rhys had something more than brotherhood going on, but maybe it was Danse she was interested in and perhaps it was reciprocated. Did I have romance on the brain? This was not what he was asking about. He had just admitted to not letting himself get close to anyone after losing Cutler, until me. I thought about Haylen's holotape journal that I had secretly listened to. She was questioning the Brotherhood's methodology and dogma. She wasn't sure she belonged.  
I had to give him a response though. He had stopped under the shelter of a ledge, and was waiting.

"Um, what are you worried about?" I asked.

"She came back from a mission with casualties. One of my Knights came back from the op seriously wounded. Past stimpaks fixable wounds. Whatever poison or infection had set deep into his gut was so far advanced, we couldn't touch it. His neck and most of his spine were badly mangled too. Scribe Haylen, with her medical training was tending to him, day and night. She was exhausting herself, wearing her own health away. And it was working, to some extent. He was still lingering on and on. But even if he somehow managed to live through the infections, he would've been completely paralyzed and probably brain damaged. We're military on the move – we don't have the facilities to tend to our disabled brethren. Losing Haylen's health in our unit, which was already cut down to half our original numbers, was tactically dangerous. So, I ordered her to administer an overdose of painkiller to let him die with dignity rather than slowly waste away to nothing. And then to get some needed rest.  
"She obeyed me, but afterwards seemed distant and strange. I figured it was the cumulative exhaustion, the stress.

"It wasn't until she came up to me, and threw herself into my arms and began to sob that I realized I had ordered her to go against her very deepest instincts to heal, not kill, her brothers and sisters."  
"I was confounded but I held her and let her cry as long as she needed. When she finally stopped, she kissed me on my cheek and thanked me. She walked away and has seemed more herself."  
I felt an ugly jab of jealousy flare up into my heart. If I was a cat, my claws would've been unsheathed.

He continued, "It was my bad judgment, my poor decision making that caused her this deep distress. It was also my decisions that led to half my unit losing their lives on this campaign. I keep asking myself, how can they continue to have confidence in me? How can I have confidence in myself?"

This was a side of Danse I never imagined existed. I knew those under his command didn't know he doubted himself either. He carried himself with such surety and pride. He wasn't worried about Haylen – he was doubting himself.

"Danse" I searched my heart for the right thing to say, "I believe in you. I trust you. I trust your judgment. And so does your unit. The Commonwealth is no walk in the park. Think of Paladin Brandis. Do you blame him for losing his unit? You have saved my life two dozen times over. I imagine the rest of your unit would say the same. I know Haylen admires, trusts and has confidence in you. Sometimes we lose people regardless of what we do or say, especially as a soldier."

He cleared his throat twice before he said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me. You know, you came here under my mentorship, but it seems I needed some mentoring from you." He paused again, "It's good to have a friend again; to be able to speak my mind freely with. Thank you, Z."

I couldn't help it, it just came out of my mouth, "Does this mean you'll be there to hold me when I need comforting?"

I couldn't see his face but I could almost feel the heat from his blush.

"I don't …I don't know…I never thought…expected you to … well, we'll just deal with any situation as it comes up, It would depend on the circumstances I suppose. We'll see what happens when or if the time ever comes." cleared his throat and coughed, "Regardless, Z, thank you for letting me get that off my chest, it's been weighing on me much more than I realized."

"You're quite welcome, Danse." I smiled, although he couldn't see my face.

We finally began to leave the Glowing Sea behind.

I had thought the world I had awoken into like Rip Van Winkle looked ugly and dead before, but after experiencing the ruin of the Glowing Sea, the Commonwealth looked like it was bursting with life and growth. It was beautiful. Our helmets came off, and I took a deep breath of relief.  
We still had a long trek to get back to the airport, and our task still urgent, yet our walking didn't have the deadly urgency it had before.  
Two ragstags engaged in a fierce rutting battle came into view atop a craggy ledge. Danse took one down with a well-placed head shot and smiled. The other stag fled as Danse and I approached.  
"Ragstag steak for dinner," Danse smiled.


	3. Synthetic Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More holotape transcritptions and the revelation about Danse.

Transcription of Holotape 4 by Piper

Of course I sneak looks at all the terminals I can everywhere I went. That comes as naturally as breathing.

Piper had wondered why I liked her so much, as she thought others regarded her with distaste as just a nosy reporter. I laughed and said I would have hired her in a jiffy to be my investigative assistant as we were both in the business of uncovering the truth of things.

It's not an end-justifies-the-means thing - it's finding out what really happened to save your client's butt. Or to find out he is really guilty as hell.  
Except this time I am to trying to save my own, with a few interesting complications, such as, I am missing 210 or so years of history and there is no legal system to speak of. It's more like the "wild west" - your six-shooter is judge, jury and executioner.

Another complication is that if Shaun is really happy where he in the Institute, he won't know me from atom, (forgive the reference, please, Church of Atom). How can one rescue someone who doesn't even know they need rescuing? Or want it?

The other complication is that I have fallen in love with Paladin Danse. It sounds so wrong that after losing Nate and Shaun I am even able to love another man, but it's not something I can help. Every time I look at him my heart swells and when we are apart I feel like I've been cut in half.

And how can this ever work?  
First, he is the Brotherhood's, body and soul. And I'm not. I know he likes and respects me. He considers me his friend and that in itself is extraordinary. His only friend's death by his own hand has wounded his spirit grievously and be had closed his heart to any and all attachments to people. Until now. How can I stir up romantic love in his heart (if I even could!) and then leave the Brotherhood and him?  
Or for his sake, am I willing to bend my own morals enough to truly commit to the BOS? After all, Haylen was managing. Except kind of in reverse for her. She started out gung-ho and then began to see the out-of-order hierarchy of priorities or perhaps that the attitude that everything that is not Brotherhood is scornful and she can see it's not the most noble of attitudes. Yet she stays, because like me, she has come to love her comrades in arms. You see, it's never a geographical place that is "home." It's always a person or persons that are truly where our hearts lay.

My home is Danse. It hurts so much and feels wonderful at the same time to realize this.

And Dogmeat, of course. Yes, you're such good dog! Ah, got an itch right there, riiight there. Got it. Yeah, feels good, boy? Good boy. You're such a handsome dog, yes you are!  
I finally got hold of the Codex and I can tell you, I could never put gathering technology above people's lives.

The more I learn about Elder Lyons, the more I like him. But his actions split the Brotherhood. There are tales of a vault dweller that had been around too. I am dying to find out more about this "lone wanderer". I only get snippets of stories of the Capital Wasteland, but I already know that this lone wandered played a huge role.  
One of the most interesting terminals I took a look at was Proctor Quinlan's. He is writing a biography on Arthur Maxson. In it, his devotion to the 20 year old Elder is blatant, like all the BOS members I have met, or spoken with, or overheard.

The weirdest thing in the biography was that pockets of "Arthur worship" kept cropping up and Maxson did whatever he could do to quell them. These men and women consider him a god, like the old Roman emperors or Egyptian pharaohs were gods to their people.

But, wait - now, this is the weird part; Arthur Maxson is willing to resort to the execution of those whom he can't convince to stop this Arthur-worship to keep the cult from growing. He kills his own men and women for idolizing him.

A bit drastic, wouldn't you say?

Between him and the mysterious "old man" of the Institute, I would almost rather have had the old corrupt politicians of my day.

Nah. Take that back. Look at Mayor McDonough of Diamond City. He's as smarmy as they come. The world could survive quite well without any of them. No, they should be more like John Hancock – at least he's honest about his wickedness. And his heart is good. He's one of the good guys. And he's a ghoul. Take that, Maxson.

I've got to go - Preston has another dire emergency for me. Later.

Transcription of Holotape 5 by Piper

Piper calls me "Blue." That's for the color of the standard Vault-Tec suits issued to all vault inhabitants.  
Wastelanders generally think of vault dwellers as gullible, weak and easy targets for predators, but Piper and I have come to really like each other and my nickname now connotes affection rather than simply identifying me as coming from a vault.  
I just came back from a homestead that Preston sent me to and this is getting so weird, I don't know what to think.  
The Warwicks are a nice family. Roger was grateful for my help. His kids are adorable and I like his wife too. But Bill Sutton, one of their homesteaders had a note which I carefully read then replaced in his pocket.  
He believes Roger is a synth.  
Now, here comes the weird part. His wife and kids (Roger's that is) all told me during different conversations how Roger used to be a mean, selfish drunk and how he has changed completely into this loving family man.  
So, if he's an Institute plant or replacement, what's his purpose? To see if a synth can pass as human? A test? One of the "old man's" experiments?  
And the thing is, I like Roger. He really cares for June and the children. He has a sparkle in his eye when he talks about them. He speaks with regret about how he used to be such an idiot who was angry and hopeless and distant from his loved ones. If he is a synth, he's an improvement over the human. Would June trade this husband for the real one?  
Creepy, I know, right?  
And there's this huge weird gourd they grow that I haven't seen anywhere else. Another experiment?  
Yeees, Dogmeat, you should have your own vault suit, too, shouldn't you? Then Piper can call you Blue II ... such a good boy!  
 

 

Transcription of Holotape 6 - by Nat

I avoided Knight-Commander Albert Landers whenever possible. He was the most unpleasant man I knew besides almost all the raiders or gunners I have ever had words with.  
His looks of disgust when he looked at me always made me wonder if there was spinach in my teeth or I had somehow sprouted a hairy wart on my nose.  
It should be me giving him those looks as he wasn't good looking to begin with. His small eyes were set too close together under beetled brows and grizzled beard. He had the same haircut as Maxson, the same beard as Maxson, and sported a scowl that was an obvious imitation of Maxson too. His skin was pitted, although it lacked any visible battle scars. His bulbous nose was threaded with broken capillaries, which made me wonder if he liked the bottle a little too well. His body was short and squat, thickly muscled, but was past its prime and turning to lard. His short fingers and club-like thumbs on powerful looking hands made him look brutish.  
I finally found out through a bit a careful questioning and gentle probing what his problem was with me.  
Elder Maxson highly favored me. I was field promoted, twice, faster than any other officer under him.  
Knight-Commander Landers was approaching 50 years old and had just finally gotten his current rank. He had been fully expecting to be the next Paladin. And he was furious about it.  
I overheard him twice - yeah, sneaky me - talking to other knights about the upstart vault dweller and my lack of training and lack of proof of my loyalty to the Codex.  
But in order to adhere to the Codex, he had to obey my orders and show respect to me. This was eating him up.  
The Codex states that of the Elder shows trust, you have to as well.  
So, he wasn't really following the Codex 100% anyway, what with his gossiping about me and all.  
So there, Landers, you jerk-face.  
Even though, in truth, he was right on all counts.  
I observed him surreptitiously when possible, and I realized that he did everything possible to get Elder Maxson's attention. He was dying for praise and recognition from his Elder. And Maxson was completely oblivious to this, it seemed.  
Landers, in charge of security of all the BOS bases took every opportunity to bring his reports directly to Maxson. Then he would wait for a compliment like a dog waiting for his treat after performing a trick. More often than not, Maxson barely acknowledged him, and when he gave a rare, "excellent, Knight-Commander" or "good job, Landers," poor Landers face would light up and he would be seen smiling for hours before his affected "Maxson scowl" was put back in place.  
Needless to say, I avoided him like the plague. Unfortunately, he was not trying to avoid me, as I was going to find out, rather painfully, later.  
End of Holotape 6  
Holotape 7 - Transcribed by Piper  
There's way too much to tell. What the hell day is it? What the hell year is it?  
I'm not sure where I left off.  
But I did get into the Institute. I will record here a little of that nightmarish journey.  
(Audible sigh) There's no going back now. No changing the history I helped create. And it's not a pretty history.  
Brian Virgil had told me I had to kill a courser and get the chip out of its head to be able to get into the institute. So I did.  
Assassin Z. That's me. Maybe Kellogg was right – he and I are a bit alike.  
Danse and I found the courser and the whole situation was very weird. A group of gunners had captured a synth and the courser was there to reclaim her. So it was the gunners vs. courser vs. Danse and me vs. courser versus gunners. I killed the courser and let the synth go free. What else was I going to do? Danse didn't argue or kill her – even though our orders are to kill all synths on sight.  
Maybe he isn't the Brotherhood's completely after all.  
We did the awful return trip to the Glowing Sea and to Virgil. Going directly there, since it was marked on my Pip-boy was a lot quicker than that first trip. We were there in two and a half hours of jogging in power armor, avoiding likely sites for radscorpions and deathclaws. We were lucky in that respect, running into some bloodbugs and one radscorpion, but that was it.  
Danse waited outside the cave, knowing it was too hard for him not to want to kill Virgil.  
Virgil gave me rough schematics for the Molecular Relay that would be able to get me into the Institute one time and one time only, using the courser chip. He reminded me about the serum and gave me directions to his old lab. I renewed my promise to do everything I could to retrieve it.  
We returned to give our report to Maxson who was very well pleased with our find. (Landers must be seething!) He sent us to Proctor Ingram who sent us to find the necessary components she would need to make the thing.  
In a week's time, the Molecular Relay was built. Elder Maxson at first was going to choose someone else to go, but I convinced him I was the best choice. He finally concurred. I was given two missions to accomplish inside the Institute if possible. One was to download data off an Institute terminal – as much as the holotape Ingram gave me could hold, and to try to recruit Dr. Li to help get Liberty Prime, the BOS giant robot, up and running.  
I dressed in a simple but clean dress and went with only one pistol and one knife each taped to a thigh. I had no idea if I would even survive being taken apart molecule by molecule and put back together underground somewhere. And I had no idea if I would be killed on sight if I got there in one piece.  
But to find Shaun, I would face this and 100 deathclaws.  
As I got up into the relay and looked out among the faces of those around the monstrous apparatus for the only one that mattered - Danse.  
The molecular relay came to life with arcs of power and a loud hum and deep vibration.  
And our eyes locked. I tried to give him a smile when there was a blinding white light – like the kind you're supposed to see when you are dying – and I was there.  
All alone in a pristine chamber. Not a soul in sight.  
Then a voice. It had to be him. The old man Kellogg spoke of. The old man greeted me through an intercom system and guided me through two elevator rides to Shaun. Except when the boy began to panic and scream for Father to some rescue him from the crazy lady trying to kidnap him, the old man entered the chamber and shut off my son. Turned him off like a battery-run GiddyUp Buttercup. The boy was not my son, he was a synth. The boy Kellogg had lured me to Diamond City with was this synth. I had been chasing a non-existent child.  
He then informed me that my search had not been fruitless at all and then he revealed that he was my son. My 60ish year old baby.  
He wanted me to join him. To live with him, get to know each other. But, of course, that wasn't all. If it had been, I might've stayed. He wanted me to prove myself to him and to the other scientists and residents of the Institute. I had to do missions for him.  
So much for a loving reunion with mom.  
I was in such shock, that the whole thing is a bit of a blur in my mind, but the things that stick out in my memory was that he called Nate's murder "unfortunate collateral damage." My Nate. His own father. Ugh!  
He didn't answer my questions about synths murdering people and taking their places in the Commonwealth.  
He just kept saying that the Institute would be the one and only savior of mankind – the rest of the fools out there didn't know what they were doing. In other words, the Institute and its leaders in their superiority and wisdom were the only one fit to rule. A bit of elitism, anyone?  
He admitted it was he who ordered my revival from cryogenic sleep, and it was also his orders that while I was to be surveilled I was not to be aided. He wanted to see how I fared. He also wanted to see how hard I would look for him.  
How could this cold-blooded creep be related to me?  
He then sent me out to meet all the department heads of the Institute.  
I numbly went about as ordered and met everyone. I got a chance to talk to Dr. Li in private, but we were interrupted. It sounded very much like she was unhappy there and dissatisfied with the goals and methods of the Institute.  
I would have to come back, when I was able. She seemed to be ripe for the picking.  
Downloading the data on a holotape was easy. "Father" gave me the run of the place. I couldn't get into the FEV lab, though, there were too many people hanging too close to me to allow my poking around the bioscience lab. Which had – get this – synth gorillas. Go figure.  
I wasn't thinking clearly.  
Dr. Li programmed my pip-boy to be able to relay in and out of the Institute at will – she said I was the only one who had such access besides the coursers. I was so special.  
Then I returned to my son. He gave me my test mission. To prove myself. To retrieve a rogue synth set up on a large ship leading a gang of raiders and wreaking havoc on the Commonwealth. My kind of mission anyway. But he wanted the synth - his 'property' - returned to him intact. He said the courser would give me the synths reset code which would turn him "off" like he had done with the boy synth.  
I left. I had to. I needed space and distance to try and process this whole paradigm shift of the meaning of my life. It had been "find Shaun!" for so long, my brain was having a very hard time realizing that I had accomplished this – and it was a stranger I had found. A stranger who was the "old man" I had come to hate by following his handiwork and the effects of them in the Commonwealth.  
When I got back, Danse was there, waiting for me. He grinned at me and it made him look boyish and sweet. I wanted to throw myself into his arms – I was so relieved to see him, but of course, I didn't. But the look of relief on his face told me he was glad his only friend had come back to him alive.  
I gave the holo to Ingram and told Maxson I would have to make a second trip to try again for Dr. Li. I had to go do Father's mission immediately if I were going to be able to get back in. I had to go alone, as I was being partnered with a courser. He concurred.  
But he asked that before I made the second trip to the Institute he needed me for one crucial mission. And because of both my and Danse's familiarity with the Commonwealth, he didn't trust anyone else for it. He told us to see Ingram for details of this mission.  
Proctor Ingram's mission was to locate nukes for Liberty Prime. Elder Maxson had felt like things might escalate very quickly from here, and that Liberty Prime was going to be the deciding factor in the conflict.  
Yes. Back into the Glowing Sea.  
I won't go into details this entry. We travelled through one rad storm after another.  
We finally found them set up a homing beacon, then Danse told me he had to stay and I was to report back to Maxson. I was saddened by our being separated. I had come to depend on him deeply.  
When I arrived, Procter Ingram in charge told me Maxson wants to see me right away and thanked me for making Liberty Prime possible.  
"We still need Dr. Li, though, Paladin. I need for you to recruit her," she said.  
I promised, "If she's recruitable, I will get her."

End of Holotape 7

I am writing this to take up where the last holotape ended.  
I left off with going to Maxson as ordered.  
Elder Maxson looked like he had just bitten into something rotten. There should have been thunderclouds over his head.  
"Is there anything you wish to tell me, knight?" He asked.  
"Not at all. I have nothing to hide." I was bewildered. I was still reeling from my world being turned upside down and inside out.  
"I find that hard to believe," he growled. "Dr. Quinlan looked at the data that you retrieved from the Institute…" the rest of what he said is kind of a blur.  
The gist of it was that the man I was in love with wasn't a man at all. He was a machine made up of human tissue.  
No, no, no, no. First I lose my son all over again and now I am losing Danse –now my only heart's connection to this world.  
I couldn't wrap my mind around this.  
He was too perfectly human to be a product of someone's clever programming. And Elder Maxson was sending me to end him. Assassination. Was this a test of my abilities or a test of my loyalty? Both, I would assume. This having to prove myself was getting very, very old.  
Maxson told me to speak to Quinlan, who had whatever intelligence there was on Danse. He said we would find him through process of elimination. That could take forever. I was supposed to get back to the Institute and find Virgil's serum and get to Dr. Li.

It was Haylen who told me where to find him, away from prying eyes and listening ears. She begged me to let him explain himself before I decided to kill him or not.

On the trip to the Station Bravo, I tried to quiet my raging emotions, unsuccessfully. I would have to find Danse first, in any case. I thought about Haylen's plea. Of course I was planning on speaking with Danse before I took any action. Haylen obviously didn't know me very well. But I know she had great affection for her superior officer, maybe even more than admiration...The thought of Danse holding her in his arms caused an ugly flare of jealousy in my heart, which I quickly quenched - that was the least of any of our worries. I didn't have the luxury to indulge in being petty.

I had to come to grips that Danse's affiliation could very well be with the Institute and everything I had seen and heard had been an act - acts of an extremely adept spy. But it had to have been a long term assignment...Danse's DNA taken when he joined the BOS was what gave him away. Hadn't he been in since he was a teenager? Do synths age physically? Danse has the body of a mature man in his late 20s or early 30s. And his boyhood scavenger friend, Cutler...they grew up together and joined the Brotherhood at the same time. This was too confusing and I didn't have enough information.  
Maybe Danse had answers. Maybe he would share them, maybe not. Would he be hostile now that he had been exposed?

The vertibird dropped me off a few miles away, so my approach wouldn't be too obvious. The hike helped calm me down.

There were armed turrets active there. I took them out easily, one by one from behind a large boulder.

The interior was a shambles and empty, but there was an elevator.

I followed the wires from the elevator to a terminal and easily hacked the code to unlock it and powered up the elevator.  
My heart was beating a staccato and my mouth was dry.

I stepped off the elevator and this room too was empty. I spotted a gaping rough hole in the concrete wall which opened into a tunnel. I picked my way carefully through the tunnel which opened up into a damp cavern. And there he was.

Stripped, no uniform, no power armor. Naked. Without the Brotherhood, he had nothing, I thought. They were his only family, his only life.

Unless...he was the deepest of deep plants ... placed there by the Institute. But if that were the case, wouldn't they have taken him in at this point? Why would he hide out where he knew his team could find him? Why would he be helping me to infiltrate it?

"You should have told me," I blurted out.

His face showed grief and horror, "Z, you have to believe me - I didn't know. I thought I was as human as you. I didn't know ... I didn't even ever wonder if could be a synth." His mouth curled in disdain when he said the word 'synth'.

I believed him.  
Either he was telling the truth or he was the best actor ever born. There was pain written in every line in his face.  
"So. Does Maxson want you to take me in, or did he send you to kill me?" He looked exhausted.  
"To kill you," I said watching his expression travel from surprise to acceptance and finally, utter resignation.  
"Of course." He said. "I ... you must obey orders." He stood, trusting and arms open as if to welcome the death coming for him.  
I had made up my mind very easily. "I won't do it, Danse. You have done nothing wrong. Just the opposite. I have seen you put your own life in danger to protect others the entire time I've known you. Danse, you don't deserve any punishment at all."  
"I am a synth," he spat out, "an abomination. The science of the best minds run amok. The reason the world looks the way it does -" he panned his outspread hand like a salesman showing his wares. "You have to obey a direct order from the Elder. If you don't, you are betraying the Brotherhood and all its ideals." He grimaced, "My very existence is an affront to everything the Brotherhood stands for. Just, for the sake of our friendship, please make it quick. A head shot would be best."  
"Danse, stop. You didn't cause any of this. Let me just ask you a question," I drew no closer to him knowing his perceptions were extremely heightened as they always we're in a combat situation. "Would you allow any harm to come to the Brotherhood? If the Institute swooped in to claim you, would you willingly betray them?"  
"Never." he snarled the word with vehemence.  
"So, unless the synth makers get a hold of you and completely reprogram you, you are no danger to the Commonwealth or the Brotherhood."  
"Of course not." he agreed.  
"So, you're telling me you should be destroyed simply because you exist? Not because of any danger you create?"  
"Yes. I. Am. An. Abomination." he hissed out between gritted teeth.  
"No," I hissed back, "you are not. You are the bravest, most self-sacrificing, most skilled soldier I have ever had the fortune to work with. And you are my best and only friend. I cannot nor will not label you an abomination. Nor do I see any reason to scrub you from the face of this earth. It would be a loss for the world, a loss for me, for Haylen - the loss of a good man who fights to make the world a better place."  
"If you won't do it, I will do it myself," he growled and picked up his laser pistol from the table next to him.  
I couldn't help it, my eyes teared up and overflowed, spilling hot down my face. "Danse," I choked out, "I don't want to be in a world where you aren't! Please, please, Danse, just live - don't die on me, or give up yet." I pulled out all the stops and played the guilt card – which I only do in case of dire emergencies, "Danse," I cried, "I have lost my life, my family and my world. You are all I have. You can't take that away from me!"  
He was silent, emotions running the gamut in his face. Staring at me.  
I held as still as a deer who senses danger, watching him. "Please..." I whispered so quietly I didn't know if he heard me. I sensed that he was teetering on the brink of choosing life over death. "Danse," I whispered, "I'm begging you."  
Finally he spoke, as he put his laser pistol, "So be it. I will not choose death. It will have to come for me."  
A silence settled.  
His eyes never left mine. "I would never choose to hurt you or Haylen." He turned and started to pace, back and forth, his mind working. "I will give you my holotags to give to Maxson. You can continue to be in good standing with the Brotherhood, and I will leave the Commonwealth."  
"Danse, wait. You don't have to leave. I still need you here. I need you at my back." My heart was breaking. I loved him and needed him like the air I breathed.  
He seemed to consider this. "I won't make any move right away. I will stay here for now. I need to contact Haylen. She deserves that from me at least. Make this place livable. You need to go, though. Report to Maxson."  
It turned out that was quite unneccesary as Maxson had followed me. He didn't trust me to carry out his assassination. And he was exonerated in his distrust when he saw Danse and me outside the bunker, both quite alive.  
What happened next still leaves me breathless.

 

The tension was so thick, it had its own force, its own life.  
Every bit of Maxson's charismatic power was in his voice. He was furious with me.  
He is just a man though. I have stood up to bull-headed misogynistic judges who thought they were the be-all end-all before too.  
He has a presence that is undeniably regal.  
I was still intimidated. I just didn't show it.  
He asked me why I had disobeyed a direct order from him.  
I told him why. I told him because Danse would never harm the Brotherhood and had given his entire life to and for them.  
He said if I wouldn't kill him, he would.  
When Danse spoke up, to reason with him, what I saw in Maxson's eyes was simply that Danse no longer existed to him. It might have been words coming from a computer terminal. Maxson scowled at Danse and ignored him.  
I told Maxson, standing between he and Danse - that if he wouldn't spare Danse for all the service he had rendered to him, he would have to spare him for me. For all the things I have done and was going to do for the Brotherhood.  
We were at an impasse. I stood between Danse and him. He would have to move me to get at Danse. I widened my stance just a bit, making my stand more solid. He glared at me hard, and I kept my face determined and still.  
"By Steel, woman!" Maxson finally growled, "You are a stubborn creature!"  
And somehow, I did it. Somehow, Maxson decided to spare Danse.  
He had conditions. Danse was to never approach or speak to any of the Brotherhood of Steel again. If discovered, he would be shot on sight.  
Maxson told me to say my goodbyes and then report to him aboard the Prydwen. Then he marched off. I heard the vertibird take off a few minutes later.  
Danse was looking at me with something akin to wonder.  
I suppose he had never seen anyone stand up to Elder Maxson before.  
"I can't believe you did that for me," he said softly, gazing at me with a warmth that was unmistakable.  
"You're very important to me Danse. And it's a bit selfish of me, really. I need you in my life. I can't let you go."  
"I still ... for you to stand up for me like that, I don't think anyone has ever done anything like that for me before. I ... Thank you. You'd better get back to the Prydwen," he said, softly, still looking at me with something akin to awe in his eyes, "I'll be here. I promise I won't leave you, that is, until you don't want me with you."  
"I heard you - you promised. Good. I'll be back when I can." I left, my heart full. When would I not want him? I wanted to hold him, to feel his bare skin on mine. I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but I just turned and left.  
I reported back to Maxson on the foredeck of the Prydwen. His scowl was as fierce as usual. He studied my face with a boldness that anyone else might find too intimidating, but I was expecting it and put on my Z face again. Still as stone. Set as rock.  
I was promoted to Paladin and given Danse's armor and officer's quarters. Danse was to be a secret between Maxson and me and never spoken of again.  
I thumped my chest with an "Ad Victoriam, Elder," and told him I was off to prepare for my Institute assignment of recruiting Dr. Li. my Institute assignment of recruiting Dr. Li and getting Virgil's serum.  
I left the foredeck and went into Danse's quarters, which were now my own. It was bare with just a bit of clutter. He wasn't here much that was obvious. Not much of his presence here. He liked to be boots on the ground and that's where he spent all this time since I've known him. I laid on his bed which still held his scent faintly. I hugged his pillow and the next thing I knew I was waking up from a deep sleep. I had dreamed of making passionate love with him.  
I woke aching from unfulfilled desire.  
I knew that I had to get back to the Institute, but first I had something to do. I was heading to Listening Post Bravo.  
He was there. He had found some military fatigues and mismatched pieces of combat armor.  
"Danse, I would like you to come there with me back to the Castle."  
"Alright," he said without enthusiasm. He had come to respect the Minutemen much more than his initial perception of them as an over-charitable, quasi-military, loosely organized force.  
Danse needed some kind of mission badly. I was worried.  
I continued, "The Commonwealth settlers need help to survive. There are more than 2 dozen settlements that depend on the Minutemen for survival. It's never possible to get to all of them when they need it most. It's where you can make the most difference right now. The Minutemen could use training in combat and tactics and setting up good defenses. The settlers need it too. They've got a foothold here, but the tide could turn without us. It is the most important mission we have right now. Without the people, there is no Commonwealth to fight for."  
He appeared to be thinking about this, his face so serious and sad.  
"Alright," he said, "it's not as if I had any plan of my own."  
We had a few days of walking ahead of us, and I'd packed a good amount of provisions in preparation.  
Get him on some missions and he won't sound so lost, I thought.  
He still looked shell shocked.  
We set up our first camp at sunset, using the last dying light of day to prepare a simple shelter. We worked perfectly together - having set up camp so many times now, and had everything ready in no time.  
He was silent most of the time, frowning most of that time too.  
I didn't attempt to make small talk - I wasn't sure what I could say that would distract him or help him learn to cope. I hope he just needed time.  
What would I do in his place - If I found out I was a synth? That I was Shaun's creation, manufactured for his curiosity? How would I face it?  
The angst would be unbearable.  
Not only that, but he had lost the Brotherhood which he had lived and breathed since his early years.  
I thought of Nick Valentine, and his struggles with having the 'real' Valentine's memories implanted into his brain and trying to determine what was genuinely him or just the shadow of this man from the past. Both he and Danse were left to their own devices. At least he knew from the start that he was a synth.  
Not like poor Danse. I didn't know how to help him.  
When we had made a small campfire and made tea and cooked up ragstag flank steaks. The smell made my stomach gurgle loudly.  
Danse picked at his meal without appetite. Usually were ate like we were starving and consumed a huge quantity of calories at each meal. We needed it just to maintain our weight.  
I had finished, and was gazing at the flames dance in our campfire.  
Danse had set aside his mostly untouched meal and cleared his throat, "Z, I need to talk to you, as my ... friend and confidante, my only friend in truth." He heaved a heavy sigh," The Brotherhood is - was -" he corrected himself, "everything to me. My life. My home. My future, my goals and dreams. My family. Since this banishment, I feel like the ground has disappeared under my feet, and I'm falling into an abyss with nothing to slow me down. I'm scared as hell. I don't know who I am any more. I have no plan, no idea how I am to shape the future."  
He was pale, and his standard look of determination had been replaced by one of worry and fear.  
"Danse," I finally spoke, "You are still you. You make your own decisions, you choose your actions and your thoughts. We make ourselves who and what we become. You are heroic, strong, smart and kind. You chose to be such."  
"I was obviously programmed to be such," he snarled. "I have no way of knowing what is my own independent thinking, or what has been plugged into my brain. Do I even have free will? Do I have a soul?"  
There was so much pain in his eyes, my own eyes welled up with tears.  
He leapt up suddenly and yelled, angrily, "I don't even if know what's in my head are real memories and which ones were implanted by the Institute!  
"I have lost my life, my very self, my reason for existence in one fell swoop." Tears of grief and pain trickled down his face. "Damn the Institute! Damn their experiments! It would've been better if I had never been made."  
He sat again, looking weary and sad. He put his head in his hands and shook his head.  
He spoke through his hands, still covering his face, "Look, Z, I know you lost your world too, but at least your life two centuries ago was real! You had real parents and a husband who loved you, a baby you created with him out of that love." His voice grew loud again, and his hands dropped from his face, "Those filthy Institute bastards couldn't even bother with giving me fake memories of a family - a mother or father or brothers and sister! No I just became aware when I was 'turned on' and left on my own to scavenge or perish." His naked pain had twisted his handsome features.  
"And that's the proof of your free will, Danse," I said firmly, although inside I was quaking, "how many countless decisions did you have to make every day to do one thing or speak the words you chose. You know! You had to go over everything you knew or felt and make your best bet to do the right thing every time." He looked about as convinced as a person being sold the Brooklyn Bridge. I continued, "Look, I saw how synths are made, their bodies and brains are indistinguishable from human ones because they are made with human DNA and cells. They just added in a control mechanism so they can control these humans they've created. But, guess what? They have failed. They can't control these synthetic humans they have made. There are several scientists there who know they created more than human-like robots - synths dream, Danse, they feel, they...love and they make choices that don't come from their makers. They have freewill. And you do too." I looked into his eyes, unwavering, "Danse, answer me this. What do you feel for me?"  
He blinked surprised, angry tears drying on his cheeks, "I feel closer to you than I have ever felt towards anyone," he stated quietly.  
"Would a non-human even be able to say those words?"  
"Maybe I was preprogrammed to care for you," he whispered.  
"Can it!" I snapped, "Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? Did the Institute bring us together? Did they put Cutler in your life? Did they program you to patch him up and befriend him? They're just people, Danse, as fallible as the rest of us. They are not gods."  
I squatted down in front of him, and took hold of hands.  
"Danse, you are more human than most people I know. You are not just a machine. Believe me."  
He held onto my hands like they were a lifeline.  
"That means ... everything to me, Z. Thank you. And thank you for continuing to offer me your friendship. I can't tell you how important you've become to me."  
I blushed, but didn't let go. "Danse," I whispered, "I want it to be more than friendship."  
He released my hands and his eyes widened in disbelief.  
"After everything the Brotherhood has taught you, you could allow yourself fall in love with a synth?"  
I cleared my throat and lifted an eyebrow at him. I leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.  
"I fell in love with Danse, with you. And it happened a while ago."  
He stood and paced back and forth in our small clearing. Finally he stopped and turned to me, "Z, please be patient with me. I don't even know if I truly do feel emotions as a human does. I feel confused. Would a human feel that?"  
I laughed softly, "Almost all the time, Danse. Especially when it comes to love. Logic kind of flies out the window when it comes to the heart. Don't second guess yourself - doubting every thought. Believe me, Danse, they are your thoughts, your feelings."  
"I need some time. Some time to process this," he said slowly.  
My heart felt wounded and beaten. What had I expected? His declaration of undying adoration? He was going through the unimaginable torment of finding his whole life was a lie and the meaning of his life - the Brotherhood - had just utterly rejected him. Yes, it was reasonable and fair that he needed time to process my declaration of romantic love for him.  
But I was glad he knew all the same. If he rejected me, my heart would just have to heal and deal with it.  
We packed up the camp in no time and were on our way again. Back in power armor, we were hidden from each other although we walked close to each other.  
We hiked in silence for about half an hour. Not that we were quiet - power armor clanks and stomps - it's impossible to be stealthy.


	4. New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse is lost, broken from the knowledge that he is not what he thought he was. Will he survive the fact that his whole life has been a lie? Can love heal all?

Our first stop was The Slog.

The settlement had grown and was now about one third non-ghouls. It was one of the most cheerful settlements I know of. Holly flirted shamelessly with Danse, who deflected her forwardness with questions about defenses with such a look of seriousness that she gave her game quickly, giving me a look, like "what's with him today?" I shrugged and smiled at her.

He had been brisk and businesslike all day, suggesting options for improvements in defense setups and turret placement. He gave the watchmen tips on how to respond more quickly when needed. Had the settlers set up a practice range. Very much the BOS officer. But he looked better. The worry lines were gone, replaced by his habitual slight frown of concentration. I preferred that frown over the former. He needed time to process this new self-image.

Danse had kept things on a professional and efficient level – we had discussed various possibilities for betterment of the settlements, not only defense-wise but productivity and comfort-wise too.  
Our discussion concluded that Provisioners were key. They not only helped trade needed goods between settlements but also carried news and messages, helping settlers feel more of a part of a bigger world than just their home. And safer too.

The Minutemen were protecting the Provisioners at the checkpoints along the roadways between settlements, opening up The Commonwealth in ways that had been impossible before. Caravans were moving more freely than ever. Not that our job was done. There were battles won in territories, left cleared out only to have a new group of roaming mutants, raiders, Gunners or feral ghouls that would fill the vacuum sooner than later. We had our hands full just making sure folks could survive and hopefully thrive eventually.

The settlements were too tempting as targets for their food, water and shelters. And settlers themselves were considered food by a lot of their enemies. The work was not going to be done any time soon. But we were definitely making progress. The people I spoke with and listened to felt a realistic hope and it was growing.

And yet, I told Danse, the Institute threat still loomed like a giant thunderhead over the entire picture. Tension was building to the inevitable conflict that would end one or more factions in the Commonwealth, and there was no way for me to stop this juggernaut of events. He had no suggestions.

Yeah, I had enough to think about to keep my mind off Danse's emotional distance.

Danse had not said anything to me about my declaration of love.

I would give him all the time in the world - just as long as he didn't have that lost, sick look.

I was pleasantly tired after a full day, my body achy from manual labor, and was perfectly content to have a good night's sleep after a high protein and high fat meal. With this life I led now, worrying about gaining weight was ancient history. Now I worked to keep enough fat on me to sleep in the cold nights of the Commonwealth. Yeah, the frozen-over hell thing again. But it was pleasantly cool tonight, not cold. As I unstrapped, and unclasped each piece of my armor, and stripped off my BOS field uniform, the air felt delicious on my bare skin, I reflected on our long day.  
I started my evening ablutions, pouring out some of my precious water into my washcloth with a tiny bit of soap, washed my face, then my body, then rinsed with another cloth soaked with clean water. I brushed my teeth and rinsed with another small amount of my water. I brushed my hair. I was not going to put on my close-fitting uniform again, but draped it over a branch for airing out.

I was getting a loose, clean shirt to sleep in when I heard Danse came up behind me. Before I could turn around, he had his arms around me, pulling me to his chest.

"I have wanted to do this since our first night together," he said in a husky whisper, then his mouth descended onto my neck and he nuzzled into that tender spot at the hollow above my collarbone. "But you were under my command at the time and it would have been unethical."

His hands traveled from my hips to my chest, where he cupped me, which immediately caused my breasts to swell up into the warmth of his palms and my nipples to harden and rise. My need rose up, excruciatingly deep and urgent, coursing through the center of my body. Everything else evaporated like mist in the sunshine from my mind, and at this moment there was only he and I.  
I was almost afraid to speak or move, thinking I would break the spell that had released him from his locked heart.

But my body had a mind of its own when it came to Danse.

I turned to him, lifting my face to his, parting my lips, and his mouth descended onto mine, kissing me hard, making my knees tremble with sudden weakness.

He lifted his lips from mine and looked deeply into my eyes. "I have wanted you since the first time I saw you, but I put those desires aside. During our missions and all the time we've spent together...I couldn't help it, I was falling in love with you, too. But that was before...before I found out that I wasn't who I thought I was. I thought that should put an end to any hope that one day we could..."

“I want us to together in every way possible. I need you so much, now." I whispered. My physical need for him was painful, my body ready for him now.

His lips crushed my own and I gave in to my passion, my raw need, and kissed him with the fire that was burning me from the inside out.

Parting to catch his breath, panting slightly, he cleared his throat and spoke softly, "I should tell you," he said, "I've never...have I meant, there's never been... I haven't...you know... been with anyone, like this...before."

I imagined his boyhood, scrapping for survival, then joining the BOS as a young teen...easy to see how there hadn't been opportunities for romance and love. Once in the BOS, he would never have broken the Codex or any mandate from Elder Maxson. Still, I was surprised. I wondered if all the Brotherhood of Steel held so closely to their Codex and the rules of etiquette. I doubted it. He was a virgin.

I smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek down to his strong jaw, my fingertips stealing up to touch his bottom lip, swollen from our kiss, "Danse, just follow your instincts, they seem to be working just fine."  
"Are you sure?" he murmured.

He was giving one last chance to escape from the synth. No chance in hades, Danse.

"Oh, yes, Danse...I am more than sure."

Our lips met again, softer this time, more like discovering each other than devouring each other...And his lips felt even better than I had imagined they would. His lower lip is delightfully full, giving his mouth an extraordinary sex appeal. How many times had I imagined those lips...and now, it was happening.

I opened my eyes and looked into his, which were open and gazing into mine. His pupils were dilated and his breathing was quickened. This caused my own arousal to grow. I reached up and unzipped his uniform and helped him peel out of it, planting slow kisses and little gentle bites as I went. My eyebrows went up as I went down, and my eyes widened. Did the synth makers choose genetic traits? Danse was extremely well-endowed, at least in my limited experience. I felt weak in the knees again, thinking of that inside of me... As I started to peel down his leggings, I stopped here and there to taste and caress him with my tongue. His male musk was earthy and evocative. I inhaled it with appreciation, knowing his scent already, but this would imprint it forever in my senses, so much stronger up close - bare skin to skin. Something primitive and feral growled "mine!" in my mind.

Oh, it wasn't just in my mind, I heard myself say it aloud in a voice I didn't recognize as my own! "Mine!"

Freed from his confining uniform, Danse urged me up, took my hand and led me to our sleeping bags. We laid down face to face, and our hands and mouths caressed and explored each other, (did Danse actually get bigger?!) until Danse groaned out, "Z, I'm sorry, please, I... can't wait...I need you... now..." I turned so I was on my back, and opened my thighs to him, inviting him in. He made a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan and answered my invitation. He tried to thrust himself in me but the angle wasn't quite right.

I whispered hoarsely, "Hold yourself up a little or you'll squish me..." and as he lifted his chest off mine, I took hold of him and guided him into me. He thrust himself so deeply into me and with such brute force that I gasped.

He was past the point of control, and began pounding into me. I so aroused already that I climaxed after just several of his animalistic, mindless thrusts, crying out in my ecstasy. I felt his release within seconds after me with a half-moan half-sob. The ache of the endless wanting of Danse was filled finally. My insides were spasming from the powerful peak. I was shaking a bit from the effects.

Oh, oh, oh... I had forgotten how wonderful making love is, and I had never, ever felt a passion so consuming, so deep.

Cognizant now of my squishability, he rolled to his side, and I turned on my side to snuggle into his warm, damp chest.

"Z," He said softly, stroking my hair, "I am sorry I hurt you. I lost control. I... I couldn't stop. I'm a beast. I'm no good at this."

I kissed his chest, and nuzzled in closer. "I am better than good, and you didn't hurt me. It was wonderful, Danse."

One eyebrow descended and one corner of his mouth turned up, "Really? But… but you cried out, I hurt you." He didn't believe me.

I smiled, "I did, yes. But that was from pleasure, not pain. Really." 

"Oh," he frowned, "I didn't know women could..." he cleared his throat, then he said, "I want you to teach me what pleases you," he was making circles with his fingers on my bare back. “Everything you do feels amazing to me. And I want to be able to do the same for you."

"I will. We'll get plenty of practice, and you know what they say...practice makes perfect..."

"Yes, we need lots of training exercises. Definitely," he said soberly, then softly laughed.

I think that was the second time I had ever heard him laugh! The first time was looking at me and the deathclaw and my knife.

It is one of the most important elements of life - the joy, the happiness, the levity, the reveling in the moment that had been nearly absent since I awoke from my cryogenic state.  
I fell asleep with that thought and a smile on my lips, in Danse's arms.

What woke me was his hand was caressing my body, from the crown of my head to my calf. I smiled sleepily and said his name.

"Teach me," he urged, "teach me what pleases you."

I was awake now. It was still dark, so I had no sense of time. Wow. The barrier he had erected had come down, not in bits and pieces but like a giant dam breaking apart and flooding the whole town.  
"There's no rush, but, alright," I breathed. My wanton body was already responding to his touch and his desire. I was sore from our joining, but I was ready for more, too.  
"Lesson One, recruit," and I proceeded to give a wee lesson in female anatomy and led his touch to each part as I described it. "So, whatever feels good to your mighty manhood, feels good to me - right there." I said guiding his questing fingers."

"Lesson Two, “I grinned and moved down, "there are different ways of making love, such as...something...like...this," and I took him into my mouth and pleasured him, until he moaned, and I could tell he was close to peaking, so, I moved back up, before I sent him over the edge, and gently pushed him into his back, mounted him and rode him until he did. His groans of release brought me to my peak too, and I collapsed atop him, trembling from my depths, waves of pleasure still running through me.

We fell back asleep, wrapped in each other, legs and arms intertwined. "I love you..." I whispered as I drifted off into sleep. Again, my mouth was talking on its own - without my consent. Oh well, it was only speaking truth anyway. Life was too precious to waste time with deception or being over-careful.

The sun was bright and its light woke me when a sunbeam touched my face.

Danse was already up and had a cook fire going. I smiled, watching him as he boiled water for tea, and cooked up some mole rat chunks. His eloquence of movement, showed such an innate grace, an economy of energy - not a wasted move. His strong hands, so deft and precise, flipped the meat over neatly in the camp pan. I could see him as a concert pianist, or a dancer, or a surgeon. But, I mused, he was a warrior, a born hero, a white knight. And perhaps in the old world, he would have ended up as a soldier too. Watching his face, a new contentment showed in his relaxed jaw and brow. Was that a slight smile on his lips? I had a feeling that the heart-ripping lost look would not make a reappearance any time soon. With my UTC blanket wrapped around me, I approached the fire. I planted a kiss on his neck and squatted down next to him.  
“Mmmmm, smells good..."

"Good morning, Z." He handed me a mug and we sat down and ate in companionable silence, watching the world wake up around us.

"It doesn't matter to me whether I am a synth or human," he said after a while, gazing at the rose colored horizon, "I know what I feel and I know what is right. You said you love me," he paused, turned to me and looked deeply into my eyes, "and I know what that means, because I feel it too. I loved my friend and I loved the Brotherhood, but it is not the same. What I feel for you is bigger than both of those combined. It's as if it's bigger than the universe - too big to contain. It has changed something in me forever, and I would never, ever want to go back to not knowing you, this, our love. I feel as if I could face anything if you are by my side." He kissed me then, softly, breathing deeply of my scent. "You called me yours last night. I tell you today, you are mine. I will never let you go. I love you, Z, so much so I feel I am going to burst apart." 

Keeping hold of my hands, he again looked to the horizon, as if looking out to the future, his deep voice soft and reflective, "I was willing to give my life for my brothers, for civilians...but now I want to live and be with you. I still need to fight, but I am not so willing to throw away this gift of life that I have received, whether from God or man - It doesn't matter. It is precious to me now." He pulled me to him, and looked into my eyes again, "and you are my gift, too, and not one I would ever willingly lose."

"Well, if you watch my backside, I'll watch yours," I said, waggling my eyebrows at him, smiling, "yours is so delectable. And we're not giving up the good fight, but yes, I need us to come through this together."  
We held hands, and finished our tea, and watched the sun creep higher through the trees.

"Save some hot water for bathing," I suggested, as Danse was cleaning up our breakfast equipment. I was shook out our BOS uniforms and redraped them over a low hanging maple branch. I half-filled two camp pans with hot water and got out my precious bit of soap and dishrags.

"Allow me," I offered holding up my weapons of sanitation to Danse. His eyebrows went up.

"I believed you were over- fastidious with your daily bathing routine, but perhaps it would be a good idea today. I have to admit, although a gentlemen would've turned his back when you bathed, I watched every time you did on our bivouacs."

Danse's olfactory sense was extraordinarily sensitive, and I imagined he didn't want to be working side by side with settlers and Minutemen reeking of sex.

Smelled good to me, but I was of the same mind. I didn't want settlers having their thoughts on thinking, "Minutemen sure are horn-dogs...they are having themselves a grand old time," instead of, "how can we make this settlement safer, more productive and happier - a good place to live?"

"Lift up your arms, solider," I commanded. His brows went up again, but he complied. His armpits were strongly musky, but not unpleasant to my senses. After I finished there, I moved on to more interesting areas, gently, softly and slowly wiping down between his buttocks and then lower, lower, and then his front - which responded immediately by standing up at attention, like a sail's mast. Nice rigging, sailor, I thought. I glanced up at his face, and he shrugged apologetically with an eyebrow up and a half smile.

"Enough," he said firmly as I finished with my "rinse cloth" in his nether regions, and urged me up by lifting my elbows.

"My turn, General," he said firmly, and taking my equipment from me and repeating what I had done exactly as I had done to him. It felt heavenly, and I worked in a good stretch as I lifted my arms to the sky. Hmmm, he was getting original here. I didn't think my breasts were in need of cleaning...Then, as he began washing me ever so gently between my legs, my knees turned to water. He wasn't just washing me...his rhythmic stroking of my most sensitive spot was going to bring me to climax.

"Oooooo," I whispered, "oh, yes...", when I meant to say, "No, no, stop that, we've got to get a move on..." Something about this man made my mouth take on a life of its own.  
He knelt down, and proceeded to show me he took me at my word when I told him how to pleasure me.

Oh, oh. His tongue was doing amazing things...His hands on my buttocks, squeezing ...and I was running my fingers through his thick hair, my head thrown back, eyes closed and lips parted.  
He continued his ministrations, sensing my growing arousal - was I making that whimpering sound?

Then, my back arched and my hands locked into his hair as the pleasure exploded through me, and my knees did give way. Danse stood, picked me up with apparent ease and carried me back to our sleeping bags. He laid me down and getting atop of me, slid into me oh-so-easily. I was still reeling from the heady pleasure, and - he felt so right inside me.

He started slow, easy and rhythmic thrusts, and soon my hips were rising to greet each thrust, and my need began to build again. I locked my legs around his waist, pulling him even more deeply in me. Our pace became faster, more heated, then we rolled over. We started slowly again, to draw out the pleasure and slow down our pace. His hands found my breasts and he held them while using his thumbs to tease my nipples, and that took my brakes off. Our pace became furious again, and desperate. I cried out with abandon as I came. He peaked too, his final deep thrust left him remaining inside me. After, we rolled to our sides, we lay boneless, sweaty and replete, our breathing slowly returning to normal, foreheads touching, face to face on our sides, with his manhood still in me.

I dozed...and awoke to see the sun at what was probably 10 o'clock in the morning, and saw Danse by our rekindled fire. He seemed to be heating water.

Heh.

After a second, more perfunctory washing up, which we performed upon on our own bodies, we dressed, packed up, cleaned up our site, got into our power armor and began the trek towards The Castle again. My lips felt swollen, my center, warm and content. Some inner, over-taut line had loosened in my core, and it changed how I saw things. The world looked crisper, more defined, brighter.  
I was suddenly looking forward to the day.

Checking my map, I decided we would stop on the way at County Crossing, the largest settlement in terms of settlers, anyway. It was in other ways, one of the smallest, area-wise because of the uneven, rocky ground. Usable space and less private accommodations made it more challenging for those who lived there. Almost as difficult as Hangman's Alley.

"Danse," I said as we walked, "I was thinking of suggesting that some people relocate to a more spacious settlement, with more arable land, and more sites suitable for building. But, I was thinking, too, they might not care too. People are developing strong bonds, the kind forged when you face death together and come out the other side alive, only to do it again and again."

"You can suggest, and they can decide," he said matter-of-factly. I nodded.

We journeyed on in companionable silence and reached Country Crossing within two hours. I gratefully got out of my power armor and stretched. I went to find Darryl, who naturally took the role of leader here, while Danse walked the perimeter, checking defenses with Amy Driscoll, who was stationed as a watchman.

As I walked, I could feel an extra sway to my hips, as if my body was declaring its sensual re-awakening to the world. I consciously tried to walk in a more business-like manner, irked with myself.

Darryl was fixing a loose board at the base of a shack. He wore olive fatigues, and combat armor. My old self would've been horrified at the thought of normal people wearing war gear all the time. But the new me did it too, and I was used to the feel, the weight, and balance of my armor, and when I took it off, I felt vulnerable, naked. His dark blond hair was neatly trimmed, and he had shaved recently.

"Darryl," I greeted him, "everything looks pretty fine."

"Oh, hey, Z! Good to see you! Things have been quiet - the Raiders haven't been back since you tracked down the bunch that had been harassing us." He stood, wiping his hands on his pants, before extending his right hand. We shook hands, and we went to his "office" to talk.

"We have 22 people here now," he declared, "and that has eased the work load for everyone. We actually have time for music and games now. People are happier. And now that we have a doctor here, no one has died of radiation sickness or viruses. I can't tell you how much you and the Minutemen have done for us. "

"That's what we're here for," I smiled, warmed by the praise, "now, what do you see as your biggest need right now and for the near future?" I asked.

"Electricity," he stated promptly. "With the extra free time, people want to read, practice their instruments, play cards or checkers or whatever. So they need light. And more private sleeping quarters. There are several couples now, and they need some privacy. That's it - you've provided workshops, trade, crops, and purified water, good shelters, but, hey, there's always room for improvement."

"We'll have to build up for more quarters," I said, "and put up some walls to make separate quarters. We need some babies around here. We'll start by purchasing some shipments of materials and start getting some power and lights too. I make regular trips to Diamond City and Goodneighbor, so just give me as many caps as you can spare, and I will purchase them at a good price for you."

"You know," he smiled, shaking his head, "2 months ago, I wouldn't have trusted anyone enough to give them any amount of caps, and now, I don't bat an eye. That's the difference you are making."

My cheeks felt hot, but I returned his gaze, and smiled back. "That's the world we want to live in, so, we make it so."


	5. More Radstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has Z been part of longitudinal research without anyone knowing? More indsidious plots are revealed. Can Danse's and Z's love survive the storm?

Holotape #9 Transcribed by Piper

I had to go back one last time to the Institute. My first trip was so full of shock to find that the old man I had come to despise was in actuality my own son. Finding my son had been my driving force – keeping me going, searching for him since I stumbled out of Vault 111. Without that, I was lost. Except for Danse. He was now my anchor, my home. Without Danse, I would've just eaten the barrel of my .45.

I also hadn't found Virgil's serum yet, and I had promised I would try to retrieve it. I also wanted to find out more about the Institute's motivations.

If I could somehow prevent this war from happening I was going to.

But, it's as if this world is just determined to take my hopes and squish them, one by one.

This second trip to this Institute almost accomplished that.

Here's what I can remember of Shaun's and my conversation from that visit.

I went to see my son in his quarters. He thanked me for retrieving the rogue synth and then this happened.

"So, if I may ask you, out of scientific curiosity, you've met M7-97, or as he is better known, Paladin Danse, have you not?" Shaun asked me.

"Yes, I have." What on earth? Where was this going?

 

"If I may, again, ask something rather personal?" His eyes gleamed with something I could not identify.

"Shoot," I said, wishing he would get to the point and beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

"I assume that meant 'yes'?" he asked, amused.

At my terse nod, he continued, "Did you find him...attractive? Were you drawn to him?" The gleam in his eye was even more avid, "and this may seem quite the odd question, but do you like the way he smells? His body I mean. Bear with me; I know that seems like a bizarre thing, but phenotypic matching should make your scents appealing to each other."

I felt as if I had swallowed a boulder and it was now sitting in my stomach, undigested and heavy.

"And if I said yes, what would that mean to you?" I asked, embarrassed, discomfited to be having such a conversation with my son.

"Ahhh!" He said smiling with delight, "I'll assume that means yes as well. It was just a theory of mine. In case you two should meet up - which was a very small probability anyway, since we had planted him in the Capital Wasteland. I had hoped he would end up with the Brotherhood, but couldn't know one way or the other. He exceeded my expectations. Becoming a Paladin! I wanted to see if you and he, if you met and spent some time together, would experience genetic sexual attraction because of genetic and phenotypic matching."

 

I was stunned. I gaped at him. Finally, I found my voice, "You were manipulating me? And Danse? Playing with my life? And his? Why, Shaun?"

I wanted to cry.

He looked surprised at my obvious distress, "I didn't think of it in that way at all, mother. I don't mean to cause you any emotional pain, that's the last thing I want." He paused, seeming to search for the right words, "When I asked you if you thought you could come to love the child synth, Shaun, it was because of this same genetic connection." He became more animated, and gestured broadly with his hands, "In a way these Generation 3s are all your genetic grandchildren. They are all made up of my DNA, which, of course, has elements of both you and my father in it."  
"So this was just to satisfy your curiosity? What true scientific value would this so called 'genetic sexual attraction' have to anyone?" I was so, so angry now, I had to fight to keep my lawyer face on and my calm intact.

He smiled, embarrassed. "You're right, of course. It has no scientific value to speak of. But it does mean that all Gen 3 synths will feel a loyalty and affection for you - it's in their very genes. And you have just proven to me it goes both ways." He seemed so pleased with himself.  
I was a longitudinal study finally come to fruition.

"If that's the case, don't you feel this attraction to Shaun and the Gen 3 synths?" I asked, miserably.  
He paced, back and forth in the small room, "Well...yes and no. I expected to feel affection for my creations - but the logical part of me knew that was going to be the outcome of them being made up of my DNA, so I was able to put those emotions aside quite easily." He stopped pacing and stopped to look at me intensely, "But for you, you fresh out of cryo, no expectations, no preconceived ideas - you were the perfect test subject to see how strong the attraction might be."

I needed to throw up. I excused myself abruptly, ran to my quarters, and retched until there was nothing in my stomach. Then I lay on my nice, clean Institute bed and cried until there were no more tears in me.  
I cried for what my Shaun had become - a cold blooded stranger - but one who had recently begun to yearn for the past that might've been. Maybe that was his own experiencing of the genetic attraction.  
I cried for Danse and me, manipulated out of no other reason than curiosity.  
Would knowing this destroy our love?  
Nah.  
Shaun may have played us like pawns, but we had free will and our hearts were our own. After all, this GSA wasn't anything new. Adam and Eve. Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. Throughout history siblings or parents and children separated at birth have fallen in love with each other meeting as adults for the first time, unaware of their kinship. And we weren't related in that way at all. The Adam and Eve comparison was more true to us than immediate family members having relations.  
Genetics and phenotypes weren't the only elements though. Not by a long shot. For instance, I cared for Shaun simply because he was my son - but I didn't like him and certainly felt no sexual attraction towards him. It wasn't a given.

It was choice, with a little help.

Danse may have been an experiment, but he had become much more than my son had counted on. He became a man with amazing courage, morals, intelligence and heart. I loved him. That would never change.  
Would I ever tell Danse about this weird conversation with Shaun? I don't know.

I found Dr. Li, and I was right, she was ready to leave the Institute. She wasn't all that crazy about the Brotherhood, but between the two, she would rather be helping them than the Institute.  
She said she would get out on her own, secretly and I shouldn't contact her again until she was out and free.

Then, I found the serum. It wasn't easy. There were laser turrets all over the place. High grade ones. But it just took patience and timing to take them out. The concentration on the task was actually soothing for me.

After that, I read as much as I could from each department and left the Institute. I would be back one last time – but that would be to blow it to smithereens. What I found in the FEV lab and SRB was enough for me to turn my back on the Institute and my son forever.  
Roger Warwick was a synth and the whole settlement was an experiment which was marked for erasure at the conclusion of the test. He had two children, for heaven's sake and his lovely wife June. Marked for "erasure"?

All the caravaners were paid informants for the Institute. I felt my fury rising. I would confront each and every one of them. Even Lucas Miller. I was so disappointed.

And no wonder Virgil fled – they were kidnapping Commonwealth people and injecting them with FEV to try and perfect the serum to their own ends. After the Super Mutant nightmare in the Capital Wasteland, I couldn't believe the evidence in front of me. Failed experiments were killed. And that was all of them.

He had begged them to shut down the program and they wouldn’t. That meant that Shaun had said the program must continue. Shaun.

My son. Ordered the kidnapping and cold blooded murder of innocent Commonwealth residents. My child - grown up into this cold, old man.

There were some good, innocent people and a few children. There was no right answer.   
 

After the Nuclear Ending

Everything seemed distant and unreal; an emotional numbness surrounded me like a thick miasma of fog. Different people asked me questions and I answered remotely, as if it were someone else using my body, my mouth. I must've been making sense, because people didn't act like I was saying bizarre things.  
The Institute had been destroyed.  
My son was dead.  
It was not the ending I could have ever envisioned or imagined. A bleakness sat in my core. I had to keep going. I had Danse and now another very important person, also a synth, to care for.  
Shaun had given me care over the synth version of himself as a ten year old boy, who didn't know he wasn't human and was told he was my son. Of course, I took him with me.  
And now, I was mechanically putting one foot in front of the other and continuing on, shock and horror pervading my soul.  
I needed to speak to Elder Maxson, and give him my decision. I was leaving the Brotherhood. He wasn't going to be pleased, but I had to make a clean break and also try to keep peace between the BOS and the Minutemen. The Railroad, whom I had been ordered to eradicate, had to stay underground to survive, and I would help with their efforts to rescue any synths that survived the destruction.  
The Institute was gone.  
Survivors could try and build it again, but it would take years and years. I knew there were other players in this awful game - the ones who hired the Gunners for instance - and rumors of the Enclave persisted. From what I had been told, both the Institute and the Enclave had extraordinarily similar goals, with value placed only on non-irradiated people.  
Everyone else was expendable. What on earth was wrong with people? There weren't enough fertile survivors left in this world to be treating people with anything but support and care. And the poor, rage-filled, super mutants, sexless and sterile, thinking they would rule the world by killing off their only source of perpetuating themselves. The FEV needed to be destroyed forever and Virgil's cure needed to be expanded to include more strains of the FEV and then used.  
It made me wonder who Strong used to be.  
And was there any way to keep ghouls from turning feral? Instead of the Brotherhood just wanting to wipe these mutated humans from the face of the earth, couldn't we research ways to reverse the losing of their humanity?  
As to the synths hidden among the population, masquerading as human - what were their goals now that the Institute had been destroyed? Who gave them orders and who did they report to? How many were like Danse and young Shaun, and thought they were human? Were they a danger to anyone? I had no idea. I knew there were some who knew what they were, but like Mayor McDonough, I had no idea what their motives or purposes were. I just knew I had to protect Danse and Shaun from the Brotherhood, who would exterminate them for the sin of existing. I could no longer align myself with the Brotherhood and keep my integrity intact. Unless they changed. Fat chance of that.

The Institute had been destroyed, yes, but the Commonwealth was still struggling to thrive. Raiders, to me, are the worst of the lot. Mutants and feral ghouls have been turned into monsters and have little or no choice in the matter. Raiders, on the other hand, are as human as they come, yet they have chosen brutality, thievery, torture and murder for personal gain. I have less pity for them than for the mutants and ferals. I am sure some could be reformed, and perhaps once we get past simply survival, we could aim for that worthy goal.

I would go directly to the Prydwen. It was better to be busy right now. I could not bear down time right now. I could not listen to my own thoughts. My grief for my lost and changed son - who spent his entire lifetime away from me - taken from me - my husband murdered before my eyes...It made me ill - the perversity and evil of what had been done to us.  
The injustice of it could never be undone.

It had ended with my son rejecting me and me rejecting who he had become too. But not utterly. He gave me a new Shaun...so he had in some way wanted my approval - perhaps my love. I would never know, but I would take this Shaun and give him all the love that I had for the child stolen from me. After all, this synth-boy carried my DNA, my Nate's and my son's DNA. He was mine. Between Danse and Shaun, and the BOS, this was not a difficult choice.

We made camp after night fell, and Danse and I took Shaun into our dry little shelter. Danse could sense my disquiet and stayed close, holding me and keeping my hand in his all night.  
Shaun was quiet too; he had lost his only home and family in one fell swoop. He had asked me why I had destroyed the only home he knew and hoped the men and women he knew were alright. I told him, as so many parents do when confronted with a child's question that can bring ugliness into their lives that I would explain later.

I made sure Shaun was as comfortable as I was able to make him, before I went to sleep. The whole camp was set up with quiet efficiency. The Minutemen were not in a celebratory mood, but stunned by the destruction we had wrought. Although we had sent out an evacuation order, we had no idea how many casualties there were. Preston had said several times that he would have wished for a different outcome, but that our hand had been forced when they began to mount campaigns against us. They had struck first and would have killed us all. I wondered.  
The next morning dawned grey and raining. Thunder rumbled and Geiger counters clicked their warnings. We all dosed ourselves with Rad-X and continued on. Shaun was wide eyed, taking in his new surroundings with awe and curiosity. He had never been outside before. From the sterile perfection of the Institute to this big, scary, stormy, wooded, rocky land...I tried to imagine what it was like for him. I kept stealing glances at him, seeing Nate in his eyes, the curve of his ear, and shape of his lips...And me too, I could see my own features reflected in his. Something about his posture rang familiar too and the way he walked.  
"So, Shaun, what do you think of the outside world so far?" I asked smiling at the boy.

"It's big," he said, gazing around, "I keep thinking it must have an end or something and then we get to the top of a hill and there's more! And it's ... interesting."  
"That it is," I said, "wait until you see The Castle. I hope you'll like it there."

His eyes got even rounder, "You live in a castle? Like a king or something?"

 

"Yep. And now you are the prince. It's a little beat up though, kind of like us."

"Wow! When are we going to get there?"

"Another two days," I said, "but I'll be leaving to head north tomorrow night."

He looked so crestfallen that I quickly added, "I'll just be a day behind you. I just have to make a quick stop before I head home."

"Stick with me, Shaun," Danse said, "We'll wait for her together. I'll show you around and get you settled. I think you're going to like Dogmeat, your mom's dog. He's smart and playful too. And we'll be able to see your mom coming home from atop the Castle walls - they're very tall."

"Okay," Shaun smiled, "That sounds good."

"Good man," Danse patted Shaun's shoulder.

Shaun beamed at the praise and the darkness that had encompassed my soul lightened a bit. I caught Danse's eyes and smiled my gratitude at him. He subtly nodded back; he understood.  
The next day passed more easily. I walked next to Shaun, engaging him in easy conversation. He made it too easy - he was full of questions about everything he saw and felt and smelled. It was a strange experience for me as in my mind's eye I could see the past overlaid by the present world, so I told him what we were seeing, smelling or feeling and then what it used to be like. His bright curiosity was charming. Danse and a few Minutemen were drawn by our talking and soon were adding new bits of information. Preston joined in, as our local historian, offered any significance to the American Revolution that an area had if any. All our steps had lightened, it seemed, all because of this boy.

We prepared to part ways at dawn the next morning, everyone a bit more cheerful.

I asked Preston, who was accompanying me to the Airport, to keep Shaun occupied while I took Danse away from the group.

When we were well out of earshot, I threw myself into his arms and kissed him. He growled in response, kissed me back and then thrust me up against a large tree. He took me right there, standing up, uniforms undone just enough for our merging. It was fast and hard, and we both climaxed within moments. Panting, he asked, "Does this wanting ever stop? I want you ... all the time."  
"I don't know - I just know I feel it too." It had been a rushed, urgent joining, but it satisfied me to my core.

"Is it this way for everyone who is in a relationship? Is this normal?" His eyes were searching mine. Is it a human thing or a synth thing, he was really asking, I thought.  
"No," I said decidedly, "definitely not everyone or maybe even most people. It's never been this intense for me..." I blushed as I realized it was true. I felt a twinge of guilt, as if I were being unfaithful to Nate's memory, but it was true.

He took this in with a look of deep satisfaction on his handsome face.

I kissed him softly, "I love you, Danse, more than I can ever express, and I want you and need you.”

He trailed his finger from my cheek to my lips, lingering there, and asked with a bit of pleading in his voice, "Do you really need to go now? Arthur isn't going to let you go without some kind of cost to you. You never made your oath though, did you? Officially?"

"Officially or unofficially, no, never."

"That is well. If you had, he would never just let you walk away."

"Good. And, yes, I need to make a clean break. What do you think the Brotherhood would do with Shaun? And if they ever realize you're not dead, you are a target too. They consider every ghoul and synth a monster, when we know they aren't nor can I put the gathering of technology above the lives of our people in the Commonwealth. The Codex is not something I can pretend to adhere to any longer. It would be dishonest and dishonorable."

This was Danse's language, and he solemnly nodded his agreement. "Alright, but if you're not back in three days, I am coming for you."

"No!" I gasped, "No, you will not! Preston is going with me. He'll know the outcome even if I'm delayed for some reason. Don't do anything foolish."

He frowned, but nodded his assent. "I won't have you taken from me though."

"I won't let myself be taken from you or Shaun either." I kissed him again, and closed up his uniform and then mine. "I going to say my goodbye to Shaun now. I know you'll take care of him. I need you to try to keep up the Minutemen's spirits too - this was too brutal for a lot of them I think."

"I think they're doing fine, but I'll keep an eye out."

 

He gazed at me - as if memorizing my face - and then took my hand and walked me back to keep our people breaking camp.

The Brotherhood didn't let him board the vertibird with me. They made Preston wait at the Airport, below.

I was told as soon as they saw me that Elder Maxson had given orders that I was to see him as soon as possible. I climbed into the vertibird, and soared up to the Prydwen. As always, she lifted my heart. Such a beautiful ship. Once there I answered two Knights' and some others' questions succinctly about the destruction of the Institute and asked where Elder Maxson was. I was directed to his usual haunt.

I saw Maxson on the foredeck. I swallowed and whispered a quick prayer that this would go well and be over with quickly. I went to him.

Elder Arthur Maxson's perpetual scowl was absent. It changed his face, softening it, allowing his rugged good looks and his surprising youth to become much more apparent.

We were quite alone up here. Everyone else had obviously been ordered to make themselves scarce. A good sign or a bad one? I had taken down the Institute with Danse by my side with the Minutemen. Maxson couldn't be happy about that. He didn't even get to see his giant robot in action.

"My thanks and congratulations to you, Paladin Z, for the complete destruction of the Institute without the loss of a single Brother," he began. "There is no doubt in my mind now, and this was the final confirmation," he began to pace, "I have spoken with Procter Quinlan and Doctor Cade, and they agree wholeheartedly with my proposal." He turned and faced me, then shocked me by going down on one knee, and looking up into my eyes said, "Z, will you marry me?"


	6. Propositions and Questioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Maxson has decided Z is the only one worthy of him. She declines and there are rough waters ahead.

I couldn't speak. It took whatever brains I had just to keep my mouth from falling open like a fish out of water. He filled the silence, standing up again. He smiled as though my silence indicated a near swoon of happiness - as if Prince Charming had just proposed to Cinderella and she was struck speechless.

"My great grandsire Roger Maxson, founded the Brotherhood of Steel," he said proudly, "his son Maxson II continued with the legacy, John Maxson came after, then came Jeremy, my grandsire, and finally my father, Jonathan who died under the rank of Paladin. All have been leaders, all but one, Elders. The legacy must continue. You have proven yourself over and over. There is no other woman worthy enough to bear my children. The only one I did know, Sarah Lyons, was killed years ago. I had nearly given up hope of finding a woman of that high a caliber again. Your fertility has already been proven. Cade tells me your ability to procreate is 99% assured. Oh, and I find you physically attractive as well. Therefore, I ask again, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He smiled, again looking his true age. So pleased with himself.

"No!" I blurted, unable to stop myself, "I cannot. I am promised to another."

The shock that registered on his face made me feel sorry for the 20 year old who had been idolized for so long, he couldn't imagine this response to what he thought was the highest tribute he could give a woman.  
There was a long moment of silence. Then he spoke.

"May I ask which Brother you are Promised to?" he said numbly. I imagined he was thinking of confronting my erstwhile mate and suggesting he give me up for the greater good.  
"He isn't a Brother," I said firmly, "and I came here to resign the Brotherhood. I can no longer in good conscience remain with the Brotherhood of Steel."

"One just doesn't resign from the Brotherhood, Z!" he said loudly, upset.

"I took no oath," I protested.

 

"It was implied," he roared. "by your acceptance of the Office of Knight and then Paladin!" Rats, the Elder Maxson was back. He lowered his voice, getting back in control of himself.  
He spoke through gritted teeth, "The formalities of a public oath-taking is ceremonial; to carry on tradition. It is sometimes delayed in times of severe conditions, such as which have just occurred."

"Nevertheless," I said firmly, my lawyer's mind kicking in, "the crisis is over and so is my offer of service before any such ceremony has been performed, and to which I would refuse to take part in."

"Wait...wait. Wait." He muttered, resuming his furious pacing. "There have been reports...of your consorting with unapproved types, the enemies of the Brotherhood, of which I had decided to overlook considering your accomplishments for the Brotherhood," He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, "you've been seen with a super mutant, a ghoul, a synth, some ne'er-do-wells and someone unidentified... in power armor..." His eyes widened, and he looked at me with those piercing eagle's eyes for so long, it took every ounce of will power to keep on the Z face.

Finally, slowly, he said in a deep, threatening growl, "That wouldn't happen to be ... Danse, would it?"

 

I gulped audibly. "That is none of your business." This was not going well. The Z face had slipped just a fraction. But he had seen.

His look went from scowl, to surprise then horror. "He is the one you're talking about, isn't he? The one you're 'promised' to? Perhaps I have overrated your intelligence." His mouth twisted into a grimace that took away any semblance of handsomeness that I had seen just moments before.

"You've been giving yourself to a ... synth? Have you...? Argh! Please tell me you haven't..." The look of disgust on his face curdled the meager contents of my stomach.  
"You would throw away your womanhood, waste your precious fertility on a walking toaster? A ..." he gagged out, "a sex-bot?" When I didn't deny his accusation, he became livid.  
"I could place you under arrest for 'consorting' he spat the word, "with the enemy." He stared hard at me. Then his eyes softened slightly.

"By Steel and blood, woman! Please, just think for a moment. I knew Danse from the beginning, watched him become a true Paladin. The thing the Institute replaced him with when they murdered my friend is not Danse. Whether it was aware of the crime or not. It is not a man, it is not your species. It is not Danse. This union is a disservice to the real Danse and to humanity itself. You need to see this for what it is, Z. Don't close your eyes to the truth."

I swallowed hard, feeling my eyes tear up. I knew Danse had not replaced anyone, but had been created as a boy and grew up... And he might not be a human conceived by two parents, but he was more than enough of a man for me. And whether or not I could bear more children...I had pushed that thought aside. Life finds paths where none are apparent, and I placed this in God's hands and no other's. But, if I could wish Danse into being a full-fledged human being, I would do it in a heartbeat. That was the truth. A tear escaped and ran down my cheek.

Arthur Maxson, seemed to take my tear as a sign of my deep regret at my poor decisions. He lowered his voice and gazed into my eyes, "I will give you a choice right here and now, Z. You can choose incarceration until such time as I see fit for you stand trial for consorting with the enemy and disobeying a direct order, or you can choose my quarters," He narrowed his eyes, and huskily whispered, "and take on some real man and make up your mind from there."

Jerk. I lost my stoic stillness for another microsecond, then slapped it back on.

"I came here to resign, and that's what I am doing. I will not wed you, nor sleep with you. I am turning in any equipment the Brotherhood has assigned me, and taking up my duties as General of the Minutemen," I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, "who will not be happy with having their leader held against her will."

He laughed, then, a big, hearty, belly laugh. "Steel and blood! Are you threatening the Brotherhood? With the big, bad Minutemen? I do so like your spirit."

"Those selfsame Minutemen you find so laughable took out the Institute with minimal casualties. We got the job done. Without a giant robot."

We glared at each other for several long moments until he finally asked soberly, softly, and maybe hopefully, "Your choice?"

"You have my choice."

Again, he looked surprised, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Finally, he gave his great head a shake, and turned away from me.

"Knights," he barked out in his powerful Elder voice "take this ... this …. prisoner to Cambridge to be incarcerated until further notice." He turned his back to me and as he left he told them, "Strip her of any signs of the Brotherhood; she is not worthy to don them. Make sure you get her issued power armor back as well."

The Knights obeyed without any hesitation.

They had me strip down right there and then, naked as the day I was born. They did not seem affected at all by my nakedness, but I saw Maxson staring at me from across the foredeck. I unpacked my meager belongings and dressed quickly in jeans, and flannel shirt, (I was desperately glad I thought to pack them), while they rifled through my belongings, looking for BOS armor parts or whatever. There was little to claim except my uniform and the bastards took all my weapons from me, of course.

"I need to have a word with my second in command at the airport." I spoke with as much disdainful authority as I could muster.  
One Knight shrugged and the other went to go and, I assume, find out if this was allowable.

He met us back at the vertibird, and shook his head. Great. I wasn't going to be able to talk to Preston. This was not good. I didn't need Danse charging into a nest of BOS and getting himself killed.  
I had to get word out. Somehow. Haylen! She was still stationed at Cambridge. She would help me, I think. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Rhys though. All his mistrust was finally going to be vindicated.  
How could this be resolved without starting a war between the Minutemen and the BOS? Was my personal happiness the price I would have to pay to keep the peace? And Shaun, oh my little innocent Shaun, whom I told I see him again in two days’ time.

This had not gone well at all. Why did I think this had to be done properly? Why did I think now was the time to do it?

Danse and I were still discovering each other and had made love every chance we got, (which wasn't enough by halves) even in the horrible rush of the end events. We couldn't get our fill of each other. And I had thought that after the demise of the Institute we would have time to be together finally.

And now, I had Shaun back, in a way. And this synth child was looking to me for love and reassurance that he was not abandoned after his home had been destroyed. I needed to get back.  
I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Arthur Maxson; forced to try to fill the footprints of legends - these larger-than-life men, and having to be the wise, decisive, infallible leader of the East Coast BOS all the time. All this at the tender age of 20 when most young men are still stumbling around, trying to find their niche in life and expected to err before they found their way. When those under you invoke your name when they are dying, instead of their sweeties or their mothers, you have become more than just a man and more like a god.

I had heard of Sarah Lyons before, but Maxson had to have been only 10 years old or so when he knew her. She had been the daughter of Elder Lyons in DC. I guess he liked his women mature. I was his elder but only by 7 years, which in this post fallout world is nothing but proof of your survival attributes. Which he liked about me. Oh, and, yes, he had added that he found me attractive. An added bonus. He just assumed that I found him desirable! I scowled at the thought. I had never thought of him in that way - I was like the others in that - he was The Elder - the final authority - wielding the great steel sword that was the force of the Brotherhood. Today was the first time I had seen him as just a man - a man with needs and desires and perhaps seeking affection that was not idolatry. It reminded me of the beginning of my lawyer career when I thought judges walked on water. When old Judge Walker made a pass at me in his chambers that changed my perspective forever. A judge was no better than any man.

The vertibird trip to Cambridge was over before I had brought my thoughts back to the present.

I suppose poor Clarke was still there too. What kind of justice system was this? Medieval at best. We would be tried by the Elder at his convenience? Was there no Bill of Rights for the BOS? Their wretched Codex, at least what I had gotten my hands on, didn't cover this.

Without a word, the Knights handed me over to another pair of Knights with the simple directive that the Elder had given them.

I was escorted coldly and quickly to the cell next to Clarke. Clarke looked shocked - his mouth hanging open in surprise. The gate slammed was locked with a loud clank.

"Hey, Clarke," I said wearily, "How are you doing, buddy?"

"Hey," he said back quietly. When I said nothing else, he asked the inevitable question.

"What did you do?"

"Consorted with the enemy."

"Oh." Clarke had been alone too long and couldn't keep silent.

"Which enemy?"

"Take your pick." I grumbled.

"Ghouls?" he asked, of course.

"Lots of ghouls," I answered.

"More?" He asked.

"Keep naming things."

"Uh, Gunners?"

"One Ex-gunner."

"How about Super Mutants?"

"Yep. But only one of those, too."

 

He was beginning to enjoy our banter. "Okay, how about synths? Those creepy 2nd generation ones?"

"Yes. Well, kind of. He's in between a Gen 2 and Gen 3. And they're not creepy really. He's a private eye named Nick Valentine out of Diamond City. He's from my time, but was awake through the whole thing."

"Wow. Tell me about him."

"I will. But you have to tell me something first."

"Sure, anything," he said.

"When do they feed you around here and is it irradiated junk or decent food?"

He laughed, "Half and half, I guess. And you get your three squares a day. It is the Brotherhood."

"You didn't ask about 3rd generation Synths."

"Well?"

"A whole slew of them, Clarke. There are some very fine synths and I would never hurt them in a million years. Lots and lots of robots, too. I count some of them as my friends too. But that's not allowed in the Brotherhood. I went to resign the BOS and got thrown in the slammer instead."

I knew how gossip flew in the Brotherhood and the Commonwealth - through Travis and Franklin and our Caravans. We may live in primitive times, but the news lives on. So I didn't mention the marriage proposal from Maxson. Any chance I had at freedom would probably be destroyed if his ego was hurt because word of my rejection got out.

"Wow," was all he said.

I passed the time telling him how Nick had rescued the kidnapped daughter of the previous mayor and made his name in Diamond City and built up trust in a city that was xenophobic at best. I told him everything I knew about Nick's human detective- self 210 years ago and how his fiancée had been murdered by the notorious Eddie Winters. I told him about the hunt for Eddie and how after more than two centuries he was brought to justice.

Clarke was enjoying this so much after all the isolation, I continued. I needed the distraction too. So I told him Hancock's tale of horror when the Mayor of Diamond City stirred up the people and they turned viciously on their ghoul residents. Then I told him about finding out that Mayor McDonough himself was a 3rd generation synth and how I killed him. I told him my suspicions were raised when Hancock had told me his childhood friend had become a complete stranger. And I believed that it wasn't his friend that had ordered the slaughter of the ghouls, but his replacement who perhaps had somehow fulfilled the Institute's perverse aims. Which were still a mystery to me, even after being there.

"That's awful!" Clarke said, rapt.

"Oh, you'll like this one then. My companion and I were walking, as always, (man, I miss my car! I have put 100,000 miles on these treads)" I pointed to my worn boots, “so there we were hoofing it from one place to another, when this little voice starting calling for help."  
"And? What was it?"  
"A refrigerator." I declared with satisfaction.  
What I didn't realize was that we had an audience, so I continued on with the story of Billy Peabody and the frightening raider who wanted the boy ghoul badly and first offered to buy him and when we turned him down, showed he wanted him badly enough to kill for him. I described the battle that ensued in great detail then I finished the tale with how my companion and I returned him safe and sound to his loving ghoul parents and described the happy reunion.

"Wow," breathed Clarke.

"Yeah, wow, alright," spoke Knight Commander Albert Landers stepping out from around the doorway he had been standing behind.

"Landers? Er, how long have you been listening to me ramble on?" Oh no. Of all the people it could have been, why was he here? Suddenly, Rhys seemed to be the most desirable of visitors.  
"Long enough. I know why you're here," he declared shaking his head, "I've been reporting on your unusual companions to my superiors all along."

"There is precedence, sir. You remember, sir. The Vault Dweller in DC and her super mutant companion, Fawkes. He helped the Brotherhood and aided us in many crucial missions, sir." Clarke chimed in.

"Shut up, traitor," snarled Landers, his beady, dark eyes never leaving me.

I spoke, "I've done nothing wrong and my companions have done nothing but aid the Commonwealth and pose no harm whatsoever to the Brotherhood." I stood straight and looked Landers in the eyes. "I have accomplished every mission Elder Maxson, Paladin Danse, Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen gave me and much more along the way to and from those missions. I took down the Institute, Landers." Why was he here?  
"You and Elder Lyons would have gotten along fine." he said disdainfully. It was Elder Maxson who healed the rift Lyons caused in the Brotherhood. Elder Maxson brought back the Outcasts. They were Paladins and Knights who knew that Lyons had lost sight of the Brotherhood's true purpose. Maxson healed the broken Brotherhood. So, you don't belong in the Brotherhood and not just because of your companions."  
Ooooh, His Maxson worship was showing.

"Then why won't Maxson just let me go?" I asked, suddenly tired. Clarke I liked. Landers was a life-drainer.

He looked at me as if I were particularly thick witted, "We have to determine if you will ever be a threat to the Brotherhood. You know too much about our ship, our stations, armaments and personnel. Liberty Prime, for instance. And if you're involved in relationships with our enemy, especially any synths, that ties both you and the things to the Institute. We don't know what information you've shared with outsiders."  
Then he quoted the Codex, "'Fear those who do not pledge to the Brotherhood for though their eyes may be opened through service, they are now blind'."  
You have proven yourself to be one of the blind," he snarled.

He looked at me with revulsion, "I never understood why you were accepted so quickly. I didn't understand how Elder Maxson promoted you to Paladin. But the Codex says, 'Give way your suspicions to the wisdom of thine Elder. Where he shows trust, so shall you'. So I did, but your true blindness has been revealed now. I need to know if you pose a danger to us. I need to know if you and that thing that called itself Danse knew each other before your retrieval of the deep range transmitter and the whole thing was staged to get you into the Brotherhood."  
"Wow." I said softly, "You've reached a whole new height of paranoia, Albert." I used his first name on purpose, to establish my position with him. He was not someone I answered to.  
I continued, "You know my story, Bertie." His ugly mug got even uglier with his genuine anger. "I've been a Vault-Tec popsicle for 210 years. You can get evidence of that from Vault 111. I met Danse in this courtyard being assailed by ferals and ran in to aid a man under attack. I never met him before that moment. Rhys was there, wounded severely, with Haylen protecting him. Danse was fighting them on his own, outnumbered 8 to one." I moved closer to Landers, and grasped the bars of my cell, "Listen to me Landers. In my journeying I have found that every Vault Tec was using people as lab rats in varying, horrible experiments. Vault Tec and The Institute had my husband murdered, kidnapped my baby for use of his non-irradiated, uncorrupted DNA, and raised him in their image. They experimented on people that they considered expendable - which is everyone not raised in a vault or deep underground. They created living, thinking, feeling creatures with human DNA and human flesh and enslaved them and wiped their minds when the results weren't of their liking. They infected innocents with Forced Evolutionary Virus, and killed the failures of their experiments. They murdered people and replaced them with synths as a social experiment. You really think that I could ever work for them?"

I continued with passion, "Look, Danse never even knew he was a synth until the data I retrieved revealed him as such. He believed he was as human as you or me. You would never even have known if I hadn't infiltrated the Institute, you jackass. When I was sent to kill him, he welcomed it, calling himself an abomination."

"That would be good if true," Landers said. "But, I don't trust you or believe you. If you have lost the Elder's trust, I cannot give you mine."

"As of right now, I haven't been released from the BOS, and I am not lying. The Codex says 'lying of any kind achieves nothing no matter the size, it only weakens the Brotherhood'. I have no desire to weaken the Brotherhood, Landers."

"You have no right to quote the Codex to me, and you can't have it both ways, picking and choosing which tenets to keep."

Darn. Quoting the Codex wasn't the best tactic. I gave up for now, and sat on the floor in the corner farthest from Landers. "Whatever." I said listlessly.

"I will be back," said Landers, "and I will get the truth out of you."

"You already have it," I said tiredly. "Hey, Bert," I called after his back, "you think if you get something out of me, Maxson will finally make you a Paladin?"  
I watched his retreating back stiffen in surprise. Oh, yes. I had hit the proverbial nail on the head. He stomped out.

An initiate brought Clarke and me our lunch, which was actually edible. And some bottles of purified water. I ate, without any appetite, knowing I had to keep up my strength.  
Clarke spoke up, "I believe you, Paladin."

"Just call me Z, and thank you. Tell me more about this Fawkes and the Vault Dweller."

And he did.

Afterwards I dozed on my cot.

I woke from a dream which had the Vault Dweller and “my" super mutant, Strong, in it. I never saw the Vault Dweller's face though. From Clarke's tale, it seemed she and Elder Lyons had gotten along very well. He, too, had made her a Knight, skipping all the normal stages of training. She too had been through loss and tragedy because of the Enclave - an Institute-like, quasi-military organization. She lost her father who gave up his life rather than give up pure water for the people. I wished I could meet her. She was somewhere out west, Clarke said. No one knew for sure where. One day perhaps. Elder Lyons had obviously freely released her from the Brotherhood. Perhaps I could use that fact in my own defense. I had also had a very vivid dream of making love with Danse.  
Clarke was watching me. "You better be careful," be whispered, "You talk in your sleep."

"Great," I mumbled, scrubbing my face with my hands, "What did I say?"

He motioned me over to our shared bars, and whispered in my ear, "A bunch of stuff, I think you were talking about the Vault Dweller being strong or something and ...you kept talking about Danse and calling his name." His whisper became nearly inaudible, "You didn't kill him, did you?

I motioned him to put his ear up to my mouth, "No, I didn't." I said into his ear pressed up against our bars. "Are you going to tell Landers?"

"No," he breathed, after a lengthy pause. "Sticking up for feral ghouls is one thing, sticking up for the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 who took down the Institute? That's something else altogether." He gave me a smile that warmed my heart. He motioned me close again.

"If you do manage to get out of here, take me with you," he said so quietly I had to strain to hear.

"You've got it." I was tired. And still reeling from the destruction I had wrought. I was haunted. How many had made it out? Did I give them enough time to get out of the blast range?  
He hissed, "Does Elder Maxson knows Danse is alive?"

"Shhhhh! Yes," I whispered, "he's known from the beginning. Only he and I knew. Danse was supposed to make himself scarce, but he stayed ... for me. My fault. I begged him not to leave me. I've done nearly all my missions with him." I got up and paced the small cell. I let my voice rise above its whisper, "I don't want to drag the Minutemen into this. The Brotherhood and the Minutemen share similar goals - close enough they should be helping one another."

I heard the stealthy footsteps I had been somewhat expecting. Clarke's eyes got huge, and he gave me a horrified look.

I mouthed, "It's okay," at him. I had been on the other side of these bars a lot more than on the inside of them. Whoever it was wouldn't have been able to decipher our whispers.  
At least that's what I hoped.  
-  
Well into the wee hours of the night, Arthur Maxson lay on his bed, starting at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He kept seeing in his mind's eye Z, nude on the foredeck. She was exquisite. Her smooth and pale skin unmarked, her body perfectly muscled but completely feminine. Her exquisite breasts. She was beautiful. Her spirit and quick mind, her natural gift of leadership...There was no other acceptable outcome. He had to have her. He had to make her his.

As he lay there, tired but unable to rest, he began to imagine her, her blonde hair undone and shining like gold around her shoulders. Her beautiful aqua eyes gazing into his, her soft, full lips parted, and let his imagination play out the rest of the scene. Finally, after, he had taken the fantasy as far as he could, he fell into a deep sleep, knowing he'd have to have his bedding washed tomorrow.

In the morning, I heard Rhys voice raised in anger and I heard Lander's voice responding. There was a short exchange, and then Landers opened the door to the lock-up. He had his hands full. He had a gleaming stun baton, a small stand or table, four pairs of handcuffs and several stimpacs. Two Knights stayed at the lock up door. My eyes widened. I hadn't expected this! He calmly and matter-of-factly, opened the cell door, set up the little stand, laid out the handcuffs and stimpacs neatly in a row. He swatted the baton into the meaty part of his hand three times, as if testing the balance and heft of the weapon.

I had a flashback to a visit to Dr. Milner, a dentist I had as a young teen, who I decided later was a sadist. He had the same look of cold pleasure in his eyes.

He shut the cell door with a clang. Then faced me. "So, you are going to answer questions to my satisfaction. For every answer you refuse to give or that I get that I deem too short or I think is a lie, you get punished. Simple."

I arched an eyebrow at him and said disdainfully, "Seems very subjective to me. I think you should have Haylen and Rhys in here too and" I gestured with my chin, "maybe these Knights here, to weigh in on what is an acceptable answer. You have rated your own perceptions too highly if you think you can tell if I'm lying or not, and beating someone is likely to get you the answers you want to hear and not the truth you say you're seeking."

"Oh well. Too bad for you. I'm the superior here and I decide." He proceeded to grab my wrists one at a time and handcuff them to the bars on the cell wall facing Clarke's cell, so Clarke could see everything? In the fraction of a second I had to decide whether to physically fight him, I decided it would only bring an excuse for him to beat me half to death. Oh. Now I understood what he was doing. He didn't think he'd break me, it was Clarke who he thought was the weak link here, Clarke he could break. He had heard us talking and thought Clarke, who had also broken trust with the Brotherhood, might know things. And he did, actually. Not a lot, but enough. He knew Danse was alive. I didn't want Landers to know that.


	7. Torture and Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z is offered a deal she cannot refuse. She has been backed into a corner and given the choice to sacrifice herself or protect those she loves.

Landers handcuffed my ankles spread far apart to the bars.

"Clarke," I called, desperately hoping he had the fortitude to keep his mouth shut, the baton struck me so hard and fast across my cheek, I lost awareness of anything but the bright pain and blinding light the blow produced.

"You will address only me, and you will only speak when spoken to," Landers instructed calmly, sounding like evil Dr. Milner or a totally evil B.F. Skinner. The two knights at the cell door kept their backs to the whole scene and were as still as statues. I was starting to really dislike these people.

Blood ran freely from the gash on my face, and it felt like several teeth were loose.

"Now, first question. When did you and Danse first meet and how long have you been working together for the Institute?"

"Wh-what? I murmured shocked.

Whack! A hit on the ribs. It was a shock baton. I convulsed helplessly.

"Answer the question."

"Go fuck yourself, Landers." I spat bloody phlegm at him, "don't be thick witted! I just blew up the Institute!"

Whack! The same spot. Ribs broken - I heard them. Again the involuntary spasming, which caused the broken bones to grind together and cause unbearable agony.  
"Answer the question."

"Jerk-face."

Whack! And he then held the baton to my thigh with the shock function turned on as high as it would go, I think. An involuntary scream tore from my throat.

When I could manage to piece together a few words again, I spoke, knowing we had witnesses, "I am not going to dignify the question with an answer no matter what you do, so you might as well move on, Landers, or is this whole thing for you to get your rocks off and not for the truth after -"

Whack! Whack! Whack! My arm was broken, and maybe my collar bone. The pain was too much and I passed out. The blackness was welcomed. I came swimming back to consciousness. The stimpac did its job and I was healing quickly. The pain faded. The bones and skin and muscle and sinew mended. My teeth were no longer loose.

 

"Try this one then. Are you a synth?"  
"No."

Whack!

"Answer!"

"Already did, idiot..."

Whack! Stab. Whack, stab! The electric current held to my burning skin.

Screams of agony erupted from my raw throat until I had no voice left. I lost consciousness two more times and was brought back both times by stimpac injections.

"Is it true it was your son that was the head of the Institute?"

Crap. How did that get out?

"Yes." Ahh, finally no blow, no shock.

 

"So, you were in league with the Institute and your son all along?"

"No, you freaking moron. My son is -"

Whack! Shock!

My voice was going, I could only answer in a small hoarse whisper.

"You were in league with you son."

"That's not even a question, you dickhead–"

He brought back his hand and the baton came down with terrible force. Whack! Broken thigh bone. I fainted.

It went on and on. The same questions over and over. The same answers, over and over. Time became meaningless, only tiny moments between the terrible agony. Finally, after he had used up all 6 stimpacs, he did what I feared he would do. I listened to his voice as though through a long tunnel, where his words and my understanding of them had a large gap. Concussion, I thought.

"Clarke, you can stop this anytime you want, you know. Just tell me everything she told you."

Clarke groaned, but said nothing. Good man, I thought, distantly.

Then Landers took the front of my worn flannel shirt in his two hands and ripped my shirt front open, popping all the ancient buttons off. Then pulled a knife from its sheath, and cut through my jeans from waist to knee. Then he cut through the other jeans leg. My jeans fell like in tatters to the floor. He looked at me, smiled coldly, and said quietly, "Answer the question, or maybe you'd like this baton up close and personal."

Oh, crap.

"Go to hell." I snarled.

He brought his baton up to shock me again, aiming apparently for my breasts when his arm was caught in an iron grip.

He and I were so caught up in our little drama, neither of us had seen Elder Maxson come in. The two knights who were guarding the cell, were now standing well back, their posture one of frightened submission.  
Maxson took in the evidence around us. The six used up stimpacs, my blood spattered everywhere, my nakedness, my bruised face complete with black eyes, my battered body and split lips. He looked too angry to speak. The look on Landers' face was priceless to me.

"The key," Maxson growled so softly I almost couldn't hear him. My world was spinning, giving me awful vertigo.

Wordlessly, Landers handed over the cuff keys.

"You fool," Maxson snarled, "don't you know you can't use more than 6 stimpacs in an hour? That's basic training, Knight-Commander. You can cause an allergic reaction. And then they can't use them ever again or you might just kill them."

He said this as he was unlocking my wrists and I did swoon then, right into his arms. Then the darkness took me and I gratefully went into it.

I woke up once under the bright lights of Cade's sick bay. I woke again, being carried like a child. The third time I woke, I stayed conscious, but didn't recognize my surroundings at all. There were tapestries and carpets covering all the walls and floor of this room, and warm wood furniture and two overstuffed chairs, upholstered in a rich maroon satiny material. Then I felt the familiar hum of the Prydwen's engines and realized I could only be in Elder Maxson's cabin. I was dressed only in a large man's shirt. It came to mid-thigh, so it was modest enough. Although I did wonder briefly who had accomplished changing my clothes while I was unconscious.

Could things get any more interesting? Where was Danse? What were the Minutemen planning, if anything? Oh, my poor little Shaun. Getting a mother, than losing her two days later.

I found his toilet facilities and used them (of course the Elder had his own private bathroom with a shower and hot water too!) and used the small sink to clean up as best I could. There was a decent mirror, and I saw a face I didn't recognize looking back at me with eyes swollen to mere slits. I used Maxson's brush and was getting the final knots out when he came in. He stood watching me brush my hair with a look I couldn't read. Pity? Anger? Desire? I didn't know him well enough to tell.

"Cade says you're going to be fine. But that you should be allowed to heal naturally. I'm sorry for that and I apologize for my Knight's atrocious behavior. I am going to keep you here to guarantee your safety. Now, if you're in need of anything, let me know, I otherwise I am going to sleep."

"I am a little hungry, Elder." Weird but true. How could I be hungry after all this? My calorie intake in this life was bizarrely huge.

"Call me Arthur." He got on the ship's handset and spoke a few words. "Food is on its way."

"Thank you, Arthur." I said trying out his first name, thinking about King Arthur, Guinevere and Sir Lancelot - with Danse as my Paladin, my Lancelot.

"You're welcome." He said cordially.

I hobbled over and took a seat in one of the chairs and groaned as the bruised flesh felt pressure. "Is that true about stimpacs? No one ever told me about that."

He laughed softly, "No, not the particular number of stimpacs, but torturing someone then healing them over and over so you can damage them indefinitely will eventually cause the body to reject the stimpac. And, yes, a few people who had over-used stimpacs ended up having an allergic reaction to them."

"Well, thank you, Arthur, for your timely rescue." This was so very weird. He was being nice. He wasn't scowling as deeply as usual. I wasn't sure how to take this young man.  
"Again, you're very welcome." He gave a very gentlemanly bow of his head.

The knock came, and a page brought in a tray of steaming food. A beautiful glass of red wine too. The food smelled amazing and I set upon it with appetite. The wine was good and dry with a pleasantly woody aftertaste. I inhaled its wonderful aroma with my poor battered eyes closed, and sipped it with appreciation. Lovely.

Arthur made a satisfied sound, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He began to undress. I quickly looked away, my cheeks hot, but not before I saw his firm, round buttocks and powerful thighs. He was definitely more hairy than Danse, and more stolidly built. He was barrel chested with powerful musculature and he was in very, very good very shape.

Oh, hell. Surely he didn't expect me to have sex with him, did he?

 

But, he pulled on a long night shirt and climbed into his bed.

"Just put the tray by the door when you're done. There's books on the shelves, or some holotapes to listen to if you want. If you need more sleep, turn off the light and just crawl in. I will not molest you."  
"Why can't I have a bed of my own?" I asked tiredly.

"Z, I can't stop the gossip, more than I could control a nuclear explosion. When I had you arrested, it spread like wildfire. I have had recurring issues with...well...hero worship. I have tried to quell these sentiments, but it always seems to grow again. I am no god, I am just a man. But some will see my order to arrest you as me labeling you as my enemy. The only way you're safe is by being under my direct protection. That way, no mysterious accident can occur in which you tragically lose your life. And my quarters has no room for another bed. If you wish, you can use a camp roll, but Cade says the softer the bed the better for you, and I am not willing to sleep on the floor in my own quarters. Take it or leave it."

I remained silent, and he turned on his side away from me. I yawned, my stomach pleasantly full and the wine relaxing my body. What the hell, I thought. And I turned off the light and climbed into bed with Elder Maxson.

When I woke he was gone, and I washed up. My pack with my belongings was at the foot of the bed, so I was able to brush my teeth too. There was a knock at the door and the same young page from last night brought me breakfast. I curled up on the chair and ate slowly. My jaw was sore, my cheek bone bruised, and my split lips stung, but I enjoyed it all the same. I found a book from my time on his shelf, a detective thriller written by an author I was familiar with from my time, and delved into it and sipped my hot tea. Which tasted like the real thing! Exquisite. I stopped after I had to re-read the same paragraph 3 times and I had a headache that was getting progressively intense - probably because of a concussion, so I went back to bed for a nap, feeling disoriented, in pain, and missing Danse. Silent tears fell from my eyes until I drifted off into sleep again.

I woke sometime later. It was pitch black and Arthur was snoring softly next to me. His body heat made for a warm, cozy bed.

I didn't think I was in mortal danger. Arthur didn't want me dead...yet. I had to get away. I had to get word to Danse. I began to climb out of bed, when Arthur's large hand grasped my leg. I froze and waited for his next move, but nothing happened. He was still asleep. I eased out from under his hand and got up as silently as a cat. If I could put on a BOS uniform and armor and helmet, I might be able to walk unrecognized, but I wouldn't be able to just order up a vertibird ride to the castle.

If I only had my free fall armor or a suit of power armor, it would be so easy. I could just jump off the Prydwen from any open spot and land safely. I tip-toed to the door. I had to find out if there was a guard posted before I could even think about boosting some power armor. I turned the latch as quietly as possible, and nearly jumped when the heavy hand fell on my shoulder. I squeaked in surprise, and turned to Arthur.

"Of course there's a guard outside my door. When I say you're confined to quarters, I do mean it."

"Okay Ninja-Elder-King, but I had to try. Incarceration, no matter how cushy, goes against my nature," I grumbled.

"Your terminology often leaves me puzzled. Let me ask you, though; if you had been able to get out? What was your next move?"

"A girl's got to have her secrets, eh? Not telling."

 

He seemed to be smiling from his tone, "Keep your secrets then, but please let me get some sleep."

"Don't let me interrupt your beauty sleep, your majesty, you do need it."

I turned quickly, ducking down out from his hand and feeling my way through the pitch dark got myself back into bed, on 'my' side.  
Was that a rumble of laughter from this young obnoxious man?

Oh! The cocksure brat. I tossed and turned for what felt like an hour, before finally drifting back to sleep.

The next few days were half interesting, half maddening. I read three novels, started a fourth, and on the fifth night had a long conversion with Arthur.

I told him how we took down the Institute and how Danse was with me every step of the way, watching my back. About my betraying my own son, in choosing to destroy the Institute. I cried.  
"They stole my baby from me, raised him to their liking, and created this tragedy by eventually pitting us against one another." I needed him to understand. Wished he could change. Wished he would let me go home. He seemed to "feel me" as John Hancock would've put it. He listened intently without interrupting me once.

In turn he told me about Sarah Lyons, her becoming Elder, how she was already so very loved by all the Brotherhood and how she was trying to unite the Outcasts when she was struck down in battle. He wept a few tears that he brusquely wiped away. He had been waiting until he was old enough to propose to her. Now he never could.

The next night we talked about lighter things. He spoke of his famous single-handed fight with a deathclaw armed with only a knife and how it was only because the stupid thing got its foot stuck in a tree root that he wasn't killed. We both laughed.

I told him about Longneck Lukowski's canned ghoul and folks getting sick. His look of disgust and horror tipped my control over the edge and I laughed. "Oh! The look on your face!"  
"Don't worry,” I snorted, "I closed the shop. I killed the bastard. Should've canned his butt too."

He started laughing too, after he said in a mock announcer’s voice, "We're serving Canned Lukowski for lunch in the commissary."

Who knew? The High and Mighty Elder Maxson did have a sense of humor.

These nightly talks became habitual and honestly I looked forward to them. Partly out of desperation and boredom, it was true, but also because he was extremely smart, and had the gift of conversation and storytelling.  
The seventh day of my captivity, Dr. Cade gave me a stimpac and my body healed completely. I was chomping at the bit to get away, but I couldn't see a way.  
In the evening, Arthur came, as usual, for dinner and conversation.  
After a few tales from both sides, I finally broached the most important subject to me.  
"How long are you going to keep me here?" I asked softly, sipping my wine and watching him from under my lashes.  
"I'd like it to be forever," he said just as softly, "I am putting my proposal back on the table. And if you say yes, I will extend my protection and thus the Brotherhood's to Danse and anyone else you ask of me. "  
This was huge! That meant the ghouls, Strong, the independent synths and most of all Shaun and Danse would be safe, even protected by the Brotherhood. My heart started to hammer in my chest. My head was swimming with the choice.

Give him what he wanted and save everyone I cared about.

But then I really thought about it. I had been catching up on my history and what the Brotherhood had been through these past decades.

"Arthur," I said with real sadness for him, "I cannot abide by the Codex. I wouldn't allow my children to be raised under its tenets. You have the Brotherhood united finally after Lyons' rule split them. Your choosing me as your wife will cause division eventually. I have friends who are ghouls and synths and a super mutant, and I would ask your protection for them too. You have to know that I will never in a million years put the gaining of tech above lives. Your Codex labels me blind. How will the brethren take that? I cannot change. Can you?"

The look of hurt on his face made me feel for him. And I needed Danse. Like I needed air to breathe.

"No," he whispered. He turned his back to me for a moment. When he turned back, his face was set carefully as though it was taking effort to remain expressionless. "What if ... what if...you gave me six months of your life, and took the role of my mate, and then I let you go with my protection for the Minutemen promised and … whoever is under their protection." He watched my face carefully and I tried very hard not to look angry or horrified although I was both of those things.

 

"Arthur..." I began, but my mind was in turmoil. This could bring much needed peace to the Commonwealth. I had had my fill of death and destruction.

"No, wait. Hear me out before you say no." He stood and paced the cabin, which was three paces one way and then back. Even an Elder has to have things compact on a ship.

"I never told Sarah how I felt." He came to stand before me, the scowl gone. He looked so young.

"I never told her how I thought she was the most amazing, beautiful woman I had ever met and how I wanted to spend the rest of my days with her by my side. I never kissed her, never held her hand. And then she was killed, and those things would never happen. And now, steel and blood! I meet you. You are the first and only woman that not only can be compared to Sarah, you exceed her skills in many areas. And you are the loveliest creature I have ever had the honor to meet - and you are not afraid of me. You talk to me as an equal - I need that. I have been so very, very alone. You are a natural leader. You're brilliant, yet caring - a fighter anyone would be glad to have at his or her back. So you see, even if I can't have you forever, I will do everything possible to have you for a while. I would not have my life lived out without even the taste of love. I will beg you if I must, so please, don't answer right away. Please. Just think on it for a few days."

I was stunned. I thought I had just been a breeding checklist to him...But this sounded very much like infatuation, or perhaps even love. Perhaps he thought after six months, he could win my heart enough to change my mind. Or get me pregnant.

He left the cabin for a while. I was emotionally exhausted and physically affected by that too. I climbed into bed. Arthur coming in later and getting into bed woke me.

Sleeping with him felt very awkward now and I stayed as close to the edge of the bed as humanly possible and not fall off.

He was gone for most of the next two days, only coming in late at night. I had tried to read a book, but couldn't concentrate.

I found paper and pen (another treasure in the Commonwealth) and write a long letter to Danse, explaining my situation and telling him how much I loved him. I begged him to look after Shaun until I could get back. I told him to tell Shaun his mother loved him and would be home in a while.

 

Closing my letter I wrote:

"If it means you and Shaun are safe, and Nick and Curie and the Minutemen too, should I give in to Arthur's demand? I would be selling my body to guarantee the safety of those I love... You are the only one for me, and I don't want anyone touching me but you...I ache for you. You must know that if I give in to his desires, it is a sacrifice for me and if you were to tell me not to, I wouldn't. I would remain a prisoner to the end of my days rather than be unfaithful to you. And never see you or hold you again. Nor see Shaun and be his mother. Nor help all the settlers and the Minutemen or Desdemona and Deacon. So many people I have promised to take care of.  
How can I not hate this man who has forced such a choice upon me?  
I am trying so hard to imagine what you would advise me to do... You are always so practical and clear headed. I can't though - this is too close to the bone...And my heart is breaking for us."  
My tears fell onto the letter and I quickly dabbed the letter with a face cloth to keep the ink from running. I must have sat there for two hours, unmoving, pen in hand, and weeping. Then I started to write again.  
"Danse, I am going to do it. If you reject me for this, I understand. Know that I will always love you no matter what you decide.  
Wait for me. I am coming back home.  
Love eternally,  
Your Z"

Then I wrote one to Preston and one to Shaun.

I sealed the letters with some hot candle wax and set it aside.

I used the intercom to send for "my" page. I sent him to find me the nicest dress he could find and some make up. He looked bewildered, but went off to try and find what I asked for.  
He returned sooner than I had hoped, and I spent the rest of the afternoon primping. The off-the-shoulder, off-white dress was a stunning concoction of low-cut lace and pearls that came to my mid-thigh and clung like a second skin. Any tighter and I wouldn't have been able to get into it. Even off-white medium heeled pumps. The makeup was a pleasant surprise, the colors perfect for my tone and eye color. That page had some very good help. Too good. I wonder what gossip was going around now on the Prydwen?

It had been so long since I put on any makeup. I put just enough eyeliner on to be daring yet not too overt - a delicate balance, and shadowed my lids lightly, subtly making my blue-green eyes more striking. A touch of base and blush to refine my cheekbones and a rose-peach gloss to my lips added the final touch.

Whoever had made this stuff, I wanted to meet. It would sell like hotcakes in the settlements. And maybe the birthrate of babies would start to rise.

I let my hair down and brushed it until it was glossy. Being outside so much had lightened my blonde hair considerably. It had grown 7 or so inches since I awoke from cryo. Bizarrely, the horrid air and poison water didn't seem to affect my locks adversely. No split ends here. Weird.

Then I waited for him.

This counselor was about to work out a plea bargain.

I sent my page out to find Maxson and request his presence for dinner. Then I told him to ask the mess officer to prepare the Elder's favorite dishes and fetch me a tablecloth and candles with a good bottle of wine.

I set everything up with care. The mess officer himself came in with the food, steaming and smelling delectable and he opened the bottle of wine to breathe properly. As he was stepping out, Arthur entered his cabin.

I enjoyed seeing the look of shocked surprise on his face. Again, it made his youth so apparent.

When his eyes found me, the long, lingering look he gave me caused me to blush deeply.

I silently gestured for him to sit with me at the small table where the candles glowed and the small feast was laid out.

There's a reason multi-million dollar business deals used to be made over expensive dinners and alcohol.

I poured two very generous goblets of the red wine and handed him one. I lifted my cup to his and said, "A toast to peace between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel."

"To peace," he responded, tapping his goblet to mine. Then he drank it. Like water. The whole goblet full. I kept my eyebrows still, although they had wanted to rise way all the way up to my hairline.  
I poured him another cupful and said, "Let's eat before we talk." My voice sounded sultry to my own ears. Good grief. What on earth was I becoming in this new world?  
"Alright," he agreed, still gazing at me with more hunger than he did with the food. He downed another half a goblet of wine, his eyes never leaving me.

The mess officer had outdone himself. The main course was some kind of delicious kind of meat that tasted very much like my favorite Black Angus filet mignon a couple of centuries ago and some sautéed squash type vegetable smothered in real butter. And salted! There were some greens too, that I didn't recognize but did enjoy.

I refilled Arthur's cup for the fourth time, and tipped the last of the bottle into my own.

I excused myself from the table and used the com to give the signal for the next course, which of course, was dessert.

The mess officer had somehow made a light confection out of razorgrain and mutfruit that reminded me of peach cobbler, with fresh whipped cream on top. I wondered what on earth he had used as a sweetener. There were no honey bees, and it didn't taste of maple or birch syrup. Maybe something they had brought from the Capital Wasteland?

I was definitely going to get the recipe from him.

When we had finished every bite, I called for the page to remove our dishes and asked him to bring a bottle of good bourbon.  
Arthur poured a healthy dollop of bourbon into the shot glasses the page had brought.

"Let's talk now," he suggested. Was he slurring his words just a teeny tiny bit?

 

"Alright. Let's."

I stood and moved to one of the overstuffed chairs and sat slowly, arranging my legs, just so and he was watching every move. He stood and pulled the other chair close to mine and sat as well. We both cradled our drinks. He stared at me expectantly.

"I have thought over your offer and I am willing to give you one month of my life. I will spend this month making every effort to satisfy you and make you happy. I have duties that make your half a year offer impossible for me."

 

"These duties would be taken up by someone else if you were killed in action. No one is irreplaceable, Z. Give me five months."

I will give you two, but I will want a written treaty from you promising your protection to the Minutemen and those under their umbrella of authority."

"Not enough. Four months, Z. I am not willing to have less."

"Make it three months, and we have a deal."

He frowned. We sipped our bourbon and looked at each other.

"Done," he said. "Three months it is. Today is January 14, so you will stay with me until April 14, midnight."

"Agreed." I said.

"So, we're starting now?" he asked suddenly looking very intense.  
"Yes," I said, and I stood and came to him took his hands and pulled him up and then kissed him.  
 

His returning kiss was passionate, fierce. His beard was scratchy, his mouth slightly sour under the taste of bourbon. He wasn't Danse. This felt so wrong.

I had loved taking parts in plays in school and loved acting. This was the time to be the Oscar winner of faking it.  
So, I gave a moan of delight.

He responded by gripping me hard by my hair and pulling me even closer. Ouch!

I felt his arousal pressing against my stomach, hard and urgent.

"Arthur, wait..." I said trying to pull away. He still had me by the hair.

His eyes, pupils dilated so much his eyes looked black, were out of focus.

I gently took his hands from their death grip in my hair.

I stepped back from him,"I took the opportunity today to write up simple agreement and a treaty. I need us to sign them together before a witness, before we proceed further," I said rather breathlessly.

He looked at me blankly. Slowly, his eyes came back into focus, "You want me to read these now? Right now? Tonight?"

I glanced down, my eye drawn helplessly to the pronounced bulge in his BDUs.

"I'm sorry, but yes."

Here, sit, I will bring them." I semi- guided him to his own chair and produced the two documents. I refilled his shot glass and stood behind him, my breasts touching him.

"I can give you a recap, if you wish. I give you my word I won't leave something out."

He downed his shot glass in one gulp and said, "Please do."

The first is our personal agreement. It simply says, and here, I'll fill in the amount of time, there..." I wrote, "three months, from January 14 to April 14th midnight, that we will abide by the treaty and that I will act as your faithful consort in all ways, and that I will then be released on aforesaid date in good standing with the Brotherhood. An honorable discharge. It also states that Danse has the same status as well." I rushed on, hoping the next statement would take the focus off Danse, "It also states that if a child comes from this union, I will raise the child, but I will bring him or her to meet you when he or she is born and then when he or she reaches the age of reason, the child can determine if he or she wishes to become a squire at that time or spend more time with you."

He growled, "I did not agree to that. You are a wretched, wily female! You ply me with good food and alcohol and your body, then bring this up?"  
"Arthur, as to Danse, he is under the protection of the Minutemen. You have already given your word that those under their protection are to be honored by the Brotherhood and protected, and as to the child, I will not give up my baby. These are non-negotiable."

"Go on," he said, sighing a huge sigh. I rubbed his shoulders a bit and then put the treaty in front of him. I poured him another shot of bourbon and one for myself. I downed mine in one swallow too this time.  
"The treaty simply states that those under the Minutemen's banner are considered as friends of the Brotherhood and if they come upon under attack the Brotherhood will aid them if they are in the area. It does not require that any troops be stationed at these places. In return for this aid, all farming settlements will offer 5 percent of their crops to the Brotherhood to make the support mutual. This will in time include products such as Brahmin raised for meat and paper and other products we are beginning to produce.

Those under the Minutemen's protection will fly both a Minutemen flag and a Brotherhood of Steel flag, so as to make who receives these benefits obvious. If raiders or gunners or other groups begin to fly our colors, we will inform each other and quickly put an end to the imposters.

In support, any Brotherhood of Steel member in need of aid or rest will be welcomed at any of our settlements. Safe havens for your men, Arthur. And any tech they find they will turn over to you. All of it."

I massaged his tight shoulders until I could feel the knots loosen. He hung his head for a moment. He took another shot glass full of the bourbon and drank it down.

"I will call Quinlan to witness this. Then, we can get back to business, yes?" He was looking at me like a man in the desert seeing an oasis in the distance.

He was more than a little drunk. Actually, I was too. My alcohol tolerance had lowered since I drank so little. I always had to stay as sharp as possible in the field, so alcohol was a limited luxury.  
He stood, wobbled a bit before he straightened his carriage to his usual regal posture. He went to the door and roared over  
the intercom for Quinlan to come to his quarters, double time.  
Quinlan, who looked like he had been asleep, came in looking alarmed and bewildered, "Elder?" he asked, "What's amiss?"

"Nothing is amiss, Quinlan. I just need you to witness a treaty and an agreement."

"I need to peruse these documents, first, sir..."

Just sign the damn things, Quinlan, you can peruse them all you want later. I have already done so and am satisfied with them."  
"Sir, I must protest..." but his words froze in his throat as Arthur bore down on him and fixed him with those steel eyes.  
"You are questioning my judgment?" Arthur growled in a threatening voice.

"No, sir. Where do I sign?"

So I affixed my signature, then Arthur did and Quinlan with his I just bit into a lemon look signed on the witness line and dated it.

"Sir, if I could just..."

"Take them, then, damn it, and just get out!"

I poured myself another shot and drank it. I think I needed to be drunk for this.

 

WHEN HE WALKED INTO HIS CABIN, all his senses were immediately overwhelmed. The mess sergeant was looking very pleased with himself and slid out after thumping his chest, "Ad Victoriam, Elder," he said, smiling widely. The delightful smell of his favorite Brahmin steak and the vegetables from the Capital Wasteland – he hadn't thought they had any left. The red wine. Her scent, soap and something else reminiscent of woman and flowers.

"Ad Victoriam, sergeant Mills," Arthur returned, not looking at him, because he only had eyes for Z.

She was beyond beautiful. She had done something to herself to make herself even more striking and he hadn't thought that possible. Her aqua eyes looked radiant, her lashes full and darker than usual. Her hair was down and flowed in gentle waves; they curling down around her breasts. He tried to remember to breathe. Golden haired vixen.

She was sitting in candlelight at the most delectable looking meal he had seen in years. That dress…it looked like it could be a wedding dress, with the seed pearls and intricate cut-out work and lace that showed even more hints of the lovely skin underneath. The cut of it showed a daring amount of décolletage. His eyes lingered there then trailed down. Her shapely legs, perfect in proportion, were crossed and shown off to their best advantage. She had on heels, for steel's sake. Where had she found shoes like that? Her gaze was brazen, a small smile on those perfect, kissable lips. She knew the effect she had on him.

What on earth had he gotten himself into? He was going to lose his perfectly maintained control over this woman. And, for better or worse, at this moment, he didn't care. He had an erection that had come on so full and so fast, it was almost painful, and he adjusted his pants as he took a seat, kind of hoping that she hadn't seen his arousal, but another part of him wanted her to have seen it and thought about it – hard.  
She poured him wine, and he downed it quickly. She refilled it again, and suggested they eat first and talk after. Her voice. What – how was she making her voice into a siren's call he could not resist?  
As delicious as Mill's meal was, he was impatient for it to be over with. He wanted to make love with this creature with his whole body and soul. More than he had ever wanted anything. When she stood, his heart sped up in anticipation, but she only went to the intercom and spoke into it quietly.

A rap on the door followed shortly after. His page came in, the one he had assigned to look after her needs, and had brought dessert. He almost snorted like a bull in frustration. She was dessert enough for him.  
She poured him another goblet of wine and again, he drank it down immediately. Then there was good bourbon.

Finally they spoke.

They bargained. He wanted her forever, but would settle for six months. The wretched woman offered him one.

They each gave up time in increments, and settled for three. Three would have to do. Besides, he thought, after three months, she won't want to leave. He was going to win her heart.  
Then she came to him, took him by the hands, pulled him up and she kissed him. Her mouth was soft and warm and wet. Her lips perfect. He wanted to devour her. He was shaking slightly with his desire.  
Then, by steel and blood, she stopped, stepped away from him. She produced two documents for them to sign. And she insisted on a witness.  
She was going to kill him from unrequited desire.

He felt his ire rise, but then as he tried to read the damn things, she stepped behind him and started to give him a massage. He felt her soft and full breasts on either side of his head as her clever hands worked the kinks out of his shoulders and neck and upper back. She-devil! She offered to give him a verbal summary. The bottle of bourbon was empty now. Did another one appear?  
It wasn't a bad treaty, and the agreement between them was reasonable. Except she had included that thing – the thing that called itself Danse – in it. And denied him the right to raise his own child, until he reached the "age of reason" anyway. And who decided when that was? Hmm?

But he was impatient with all of this. Her word was good enough for him. He stood, shocked at how he had to fight to keep his balance. He was drunk. The enchantress had bewitched him. He had only gotten drunk twice before in his life, and both times had regretted it. His self-control was a matter of pride and also appropriate to his station in the Brotherhood as Elder.  
He ordered Quinlan to get to his cabin immediately. Blood and steel! Quinlan wanted to argue with him, wanted to spend hours reading over the treaty  
and the agreement before signing it.

Enough was enough. Arthur pulled up all his authority and strength and put it into his body, his voice, and told Quinlan to just sign the damn things.

He did, taking with him the precious documents. Z asked Quinlan to have a copy made to be sent to the Castle, where the Minutemen headquartered. She also handed him missives to be delivered with the documents.

Finally, finally, there was no food, no booze, no scribes or pages. It was just himself and Z. She turned her back to him and asked him to unzip her dress.  
He did. Slowly, ever so slowly. Her back, even her bare back was exquisite. Her warm flesh was soft, inviting. The zipper came down so far, the cleavage of her buttocks were revealed. Beautiful.  
"I'll be right back, I need to freshen up a bit. Wait for me, Arthur," she said in the siren's voice again.

He started to unbutton his BDUs, and suddenly felt dizzy and so very sleepy. He had to lay down for just a minute or two.  
He lay down and that was all he knew for several hours.


	8. Chapter 8

My Letters to the Castle  
________________________________________  
My Letter to Shaun

Dear son,

I am so, so sorry that I didn't get back as I had planned. I am going to be delayed even more, much to my sadness.

I don't want to be away from you, especially when you are getting to know a whole new world out here in the Commonwealth.

You must know that I love you and am trying to get back to you.

Know this, though, I am safe and unharmed.

It's just that it wasn't as simple as I had thought to leave the Brotherhood. There are some proper protocols I must go through before my release is final. It's the military – and they have rules.

Until I do come back, I am going to ask you to try to spend time with Danse. He will be missing me too. You two need to stick together and help each other.

He can teach you all sorts of things, Shaun. He can teach you how to use a knife and a gun properly, and I think you should know how to use them.

Danse can teach you survival skills too; tracking, hunting, camping, and setting up traps and other good stuff. He has taught me a lot of these things too.  
I am sure I don't have to tell you to be on your best behavior.

Get to know the people at the Castle and don't wander off. Promise me!

I have so much I want to tell you. And I want to know everything about you. I know we've been kept apart more than we should have – but that gives us all the more to talk about to make up for lost time!  
The courier who is bringing this will bring your reply to me, so please write back. We will be able to write as many letters back and forth as we wish, so please, please keep a journal of what you are doing while we are apart. I will do the same for you.

I am on board the Prydwen right now. You can see it from the parapets of the Castle. So when you are looking at it, know that I am thinking of you at that very moment and loving you. So you see, we're not that far apart after all, are we?

All my love with hugs too,

Mom

 

Letter to Preston

Dear Preston,

Do not feel responsible for my capture. That is an order.

My coming here was my choice and I fully accept all the outcomes of that choice.

I am being treated very well and am trying to establish a permanent alliance between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen. It is going to take a while.

In the meantime, you need to find some brave Minutemen to make regular checks on all our settlements and help them in any way they need.

I order shipments of materials from the vendors in Diamond City, Goodneighbor, Bunker Hill and Vault 81, as well as Connie on her farm and Professor Greene at Graygarden. You need to get someone who is good at bargaining to do this for me. County Crossing needs more electricity and more private quarters for their couples, for instance. In my footlocker are the 1,670 caps they gave me for supplies.

I know we need more bodies too. So I am asking you to go on a recruitment run. You are loved and recognized by most of the Commonwealth, and whether you know it or not, you have a politician's heart. You can talk a cat out of a tree full of bowls of cream. So, use this gift and beef up our ranks. Have Franklin start up a recruitment campaign on Radio Freedom too. Look to what folks are good at – because we need craftsmen, soldiers, bargainers and tacticians. This is what you are good at. After all, you saw the leader in me that I certainly didn't. Sturges can help you too, if he would.

I need you to keep Danse busy too. He will be going crazy not coming to rescue me. I don't need rescuing, and any efforts in this regard will destroy the fragile alliance I am trying to build.  
And my son, Shaun, (yes, I refer to him as my son, because I am taking him on as my child), please, please, be a good Uncle Preston and make sure he is doing okay.

Elder Maxson is allowing for letters to be sent to and from the Castle, so when he sends out a courier, you can send letters back. Just so you know. Not like I am asking for progress reports or anything. I am not a micro-manager and I trust you implicitly. I mostly want to know how you are holding up and how Danse and Shaun are doing.

Take care of yourself, Preston. That's also an order.  
Z

 

Letter 1 to Danse

My love,

I am safe. Please don't worry for my safety. And please don't come. I am begging you. I know that every cell in your body is crying out to come and save me, rescue me from the dragon, as my knight in shining armor – which you are – but that would mean your death, and I cannot live without you.

I shouldn't have come, I should've listened to you and waited. But I did come and now Arthur won't release me.

The very first time I saw you, putting yourself between the feral ghouls and a helpless Rhys and Haylen, something changed in me. You were giving them the protection of your body and I knew that you would not let those ferals at your people even if it meant dying. And it was obvious you had no intention of dying that day. There was no fear in your face – just a look – well a hero's look. Determination. Courage. Righteous anger. And I have to admit, I saw that you were, are, extraordinarily good looking.

I lost part of my heart that day – right off the bat.

I remember too, the first time you came to aid a settlement with me. While I was talking with Gerry, you had squatted down, in your armor, and were talking with Thad, Gerry's 5 year old son. You were smiling and the two of you were chatting like old buddies. You gave the child something, (I never did find out what) and he went skipping off grinning and happy. The image is something I will never forget – this very small child and this warrior in hulking armor – and you invoked nothing but a delightful curiosity in this little boy.  
There went another piece of my heart.  
Then there was the time you saved Dogmeat – tackling the mirelurk, tossing away your careful tactics of fighting them at as much distance you can manage and aiming for their crabby heads. Then giving him one of our precious stimpacs.

Another piece gone.

And when that settlement came under attack while we were still there, helping to build a new home for the newcomers – you did it again. Put yourself between the settlers and harm's way. For you, protecting others it is as natural as breathing. There is no hesitation – not even an inkling of a pause – to put yourself into harm's way to keep it from others. You barked orders to make sure the children were taken from the danger all the while pushing back the foe.

When we went to Sanctuary and I poured out my heart to you for the first time – telling you everything - you listened and didn't interrupt with questions or comments. You knew I just needed to let the dam break and its bitter contents flood out. Then you took me to Vault 111. I went on the pretext of getting the locked away experimental cryojet weapon, but I had really just wanted to see Nate one last time.  
Standing in that dreadful chamber, you told me to take all the time I needed and asked if I wanted to bury my husband. And you did it for me all the while in respectful silence.  
There went the last bit of my heart that I had been withholding.

So, Danse, if you are doubting yourself again – stop it. Stop it right now.

You are the man I love. You are the man I choose. I will spend the rest of whatever life God grants me loving you – and I pray that we can be together for that time too.  
Now I will tell you the bad news.

This gets a little weird, Danse, and I don't know how you will react to this. It sure took me for a wicked loop.

Maxson proposed marriage to me. He was ready to carry on the famous Maxson line.

I told him there was someone else. He guessed it was you.

I won't go into all the details, but he is determined to have me, one way or another and to one degree or another.

If it means you and Shaun are safe, and Nick and Curie and the Minutemen too, should I give in to Arthur's demand? I would be, to put it bluntly, selling my body to guarantee the safety of those I love... You are the only one for me, and I don't want anyone touching me but you...I ache for you. You must know that if I give in to his desires, it is a sacrifice for me and if you were to tell me not to, I wouldn't. I would remain a prisoner to the end of my days rather than be unfaithful to you. And never see you or hold you again. Nor see Shaun and be his mother. Nor help all the settlers and the Minutemen or Desdemona and Deacon. So many people I have promised to take care of. This would have been the simplest of all the decisions I have ever made in my life – I chose you a long time ago and nothing could change that. But he knows my weakness. And that is you. And all the settlers and the Minutemen who fight to protect them.

He offered me your permanent pardon and protection as well as a peace treaty with the Minutemen and those under their protection. In exchange for me.  
How can I not hate this man who has forced such a choice upon me?

I am trying so hard to imagine what you would advise me to do... You are always so practical and clear headed. I can't though - this is too close to the bone...and my heart is breaking for us.  
I told him this was impossible, then he changed his requirements – I would be his for a set time. Then I can go freely, released from the Brotherhood with no dishonor and no debt. And with the guarantee of protection for those that I love.

This does not seem to fit in the hero mold. It is not chivalric. It is not something to be proud of. If it was for my own safety I would tell him to go to hell. But it's not.  
"Danse, I am going to do it. If you reject me for this, I understand. Know that I will always love you no matter what you decide.

Wait for me. I am coming back home.

 

Love eternally,   
Your Z


	9. My Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z gives in to Arthur's deep desire. She has protected her loved ones, but at what cost to her soul?

I knew I might need some aid in the lubrication department and was extremely grateful that the page had brought a hand and body cream along with the cosmetics. With Danse, I was instantly ready for him by just looking at him. Touching him caused an inner fire to burn out of control. With Arthur, I would need some help. I dabbed a healthy dollop between my legs and looked at myself in Arthur's mirror. I absently massaged the rest into my hands. It smelled of roses. How could that be? Rosa rugosa survived the bombs somewhere? I could hope, anyway.

Was I really going to do this? Could I?

I thought of Danse, of Shaun and Preston. The ghouls at the Slog and the Peabody's and Mayor Hancock. Even Strong, faithful to me as anybody had ever been. The independent synths who hadn't murdered someone to replace them.

Yes. It wasn't that huge of a price to pay. I just hoped Danse would see it that way.

I took a deep breath, slipped out of the dress, hung it on a hook, and stepped out. I gave my body a once over – I looked as good as I ever have in my life. Probably better.  
Ready or not, here I come King Arthur.

And he was sprawled, limbs akimbo, snoring to high heaven.

It took every ounce of will I had not to burst out laughing. I had plied him with too much liquor.

My thighs were slick with the rose scented cream, as I climbed in next to him with the very little room he had left for me. I hoped he wouldn't vomit on me in the middle of the night.

When I awoke, he was still out like a light. I washed my face, used a wash cloth to freshen up a bit, brushed my teeth and combed out my hair. I touched up the makeup I had slept in. It had held up pretty well. And then I stepped out of the cabin.

The guard looked at me, puzzled.

"I am going to see the mess sergeant," I said, "I will be right back."

"Er… Paladin…I mean Lady Z ... I don't think you have free run of the ship."

"Do you want to wake Elder Maxson up to find out? Believe me, Lancer, it's okay."

He didn't stop me. My ears burned with the thought of the rumors flying throughout the Brotherhood. Danse had told me that no secrets could be kept for long in the Brotherhood.  
The title of "Lady"? Good grief.

I found Mills and asked him if he had any kind of remedy for hangover. I told him it was me who needed it. I had imbibed too much of his fine wine and bourbon last night. I winked at him.

"Oh, my poor head," I moaned, "surely you have some secret recipe or something?" And as so many chefs and cooks of the world do, he had his own cure for hangover.

While he mixed it up for me, I wondered if my letters would be delivered today. And if I would get any back.

Cure in hand, I stopped by Cade's office and asked for something for my headache. He eyed me with avid curiosity, but didn't ask questions. He provided me with a small dose of liquid that was an analgesic.  
These two things in hand, I returned to Arthur.

I woke him by gently stroking his chest and shoulder. His eyes, gummy from sleep, cracked open, "Hmmmm?" he murmured.

I couldn't help it, the temptation was too great. "Oh, Arthur, you were wonderful last night. You didn't tell me you were such a great lover."

Now he woke up. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He was still in his uniform, although it was unbuttoned. He looked at himself, back at me and then himself again.  
"Really," he said dryly.  
"Here," I said, handing him the two concoctions, "Mills and Cade think it's me with the hangover. Your secret is safe with me."

He downed them both with a grimace of revulsion. He struggled for a moment to keep from gagging. "Ah, my head…my brain is floating in pain jelly, don't jostle me."

He lay back down. Moaning. "I see you've already released yourself from being confined to quarters," he commented with his eyes closed.

"We made an agreement. I am yours until April 14th. I am not going anywhere."

He grunted an acknowledgment. "Then perhaps you could absent yourself for a few hours and let me sleep this off."  
I nodded my head. "I need some exercise. I'll be in the weight room."

There wasn't a room set apart for exercise, but the main bay had workout equipment. The men and women stationed on the Prydwen for months at a time had to be able to remain in fighting shape after all.  
Running up and down the catwalks was definitely a good cardio workout too. I hadn't had to do any kind of artificial workouts as I was always, fighting, walking, running or building or fixing things when I wasn't sleeping.

This was living in the lap of luxury for me.

So I worked out furiously, until I was drenched with sweat and my body ached. I then ran every catwalk on the ship, easily dodging around the power armored knights at guard posts.  
I wished I had a sword to play with.

Then I used the common wash room to shower. Hot water. Oh yeah.

I finished off with the water ice cold and then toweled off. I hadn't thought to bring a spare uniform with me and looked in some of the lockers. There was one that didn't smell bad, and it was too big, but I wasn't going to wander around the Prydwen in a towel, for heaven's sake. It was hard enough knowing that everyone and their aunt Sue knew I was sleeping with Elder Maxson.

I went to the mess hall and got some brunch. It wasn't anything like what the Elder was served, but it was plenty good enough for me and what I was used to eating on missions.

Then I went to the flight deck to go and look out over the Commonwealth. The skies were clear and the wind was gentle. It was comfortably warm.

I leaned out over the rail and gazed down. I had been to many of those ruined buildings in my wanderings. I remember them from before the war too.

Suddenly, he was there, next to me. Cleaned up nicely too.

"Hey, there," I said softly.

"Hello Z." Arthur said looking at me with that look again. Like he was hungry and I was yummy.

"Come back to our quarters with me," he said with a note of longing in his tone.

"I guess Mill's and Cade's potions helped?" I smiled.

"Yes, they did and thank you for telling them it was you," he shook his great head, "You see, you are perfect for me."

"Until April 14th, I am," I said, firmly.

"Unless you change your mind by then," he replied, "I have not given up hope, Z."

He took me by the hand and led me back.

The bed had been made up anew, everything was spotless.

"I borrowed someone's uniform out of a locker out there," I said as I began to undo the straps, buckles and zippers. The uniform dropped to the floor, in a puddle. I stood naked before him.  
"I'll take care of that," he said absently, his eyes glued on my every move.

Here I was again, at that moment where there was no going back, no undoing what I was about to do. I slipped into the head again, and got another dollop of the rose-scented cream. I brought it out with me, and as Arthur slipped out of his uniform, I got a good amount of the cream in my palm and took his manhood in my hand and began gently squeezing and pulling it, back and forth, back and forth.  
His eyes rolled in pleasure and he groaned. "Woman, by steel and blood, stop before it's too late," he took my hand from his erection and pulled me to him and kissed me.  
His fingers deftly found my own pleasure spot between my legs, slippery from the cream, which he probably took to be my natural response to him. He was knowledgeable in what gave me pleasure and soon it was me pulling his hand away, "No, stop… Arthur, now, please, take me now." I did not want him to bring me the deep pleasure of an orgasm. That privilege belonged to Danse alone.

How could my body be responding to his touch? But it was, and I was ready.

He lay down and guided my hips over him. I teased his manhood, rubbing him up on me but not taking him in me.

He grasped me by the hips and pulled me onto him and him into me with force and need. I gasped, as he plunged deep into me.

He was shaped differently than Danse – who fit into me like he was made for me. Arthur's manhood was shorter but very much wider, and I was glad of the extra lubricant.

He couldn't hold back. He was caught up in the passion of the moment and I felt the hot liquid spurt out of him and into me.

I rolled over to my side and lay down with my head on his shoulder. He was panting, and he was smiling.

"You are warm silk, you are oh so tight and perfect…you are beautiful…" he said into my hair, his breath warm on the top of my head.

And so. 90 days to go.

 

Letters from the Castle

January 15

Dear Mom,

Thanks for your letter. I feel a lot better now.

I am being good, I promise.

Danse is going to teach me wood carving, so we can make our own chess set. I am going to make the pawns.

I really like the Castle. It's kind of dirty here, but way more interesting than the Institute. I like Ada very much. And Dogmeat is great! I hope he can make puppies one day, but then we would have to find a girl dog for him, right?

Uncle Preston is teaching me how to shoot a laser musket. It's too heavy for me, and he said he's looking for something more my size.

Franklin let me help with the radio broadcast. I say "Join the Minutemen! Make the Commonwealth a better place to live!"

I want to be a minuteman when I grow up and help people like you do.

Hurry home, mom. I can't wait for you to be here.

Love,  
Shaun

 

January 15  
Dear Z,  
All is well here. We have started a recruitment drive and I will be making a tour of the settlements starting next week.  
I found three Minutemen who seem to like bargaining and have sent them to your usual vendors with as much caps as we could scrounge up. County Crossing will be taken care of properly too.  
Shaun is a great kid. Everyone loves him. He doesn't have any bad behaviors at all. He stays within the walls unless someone is with him and Danse has cleared it. Danse has made sure that he knows where Shaun is every second of every day. They are becoming inseparable. Sturges is working on a kid-sized laser musket for the lad.

Why do you have to stay until April 14th?

The Treaty is great stuff. I am sure the settlers won't mind donating 5 percent of their produce for the protection the Brotherhood offers. The Minutemen will build hostels for the BOS on each community too, if amenable to the settlers for hospitality for the BOS or for newcomers.

I don't know what you did, or how you did it, but I am glad you did.  
The Commonwealth owes you more than it can ever give you. I do too. Whatever you want, whatever you need, if I can do it, I will.  
Yours,  
Preston

 

01-15-2287  
Z,  
I am so glad you’re safe. I love you.

The boy is doing well. I am taking care of him.

I can't believe Arthur is blackmailing you into his bed. I had thought he was a better man than that.

I have tried to keep my emotions in check and then I read the Agreement. And then I read the Treaty.

It would be for me, not for the Commonwealth, not for the Minutemen or the Brotherhood, if I followed my heart and took you back by force.  
You have not only created real peace in the Commonwealth, you have given me something I will have to explain in person.

And you were worried I would stop loving you?

I will always love you. Nothing could ever change that. I am not happy that you are in Arthur's bed. The thought makes me crazy with jealousy. But I know it was not something you wanted to do and you are doing it out of love for me, for the child and for your people. And you somehow managed to get him to agree to only three months.

You are amazing.

I will keep the letters coming, and I expect you to write too.

Until you are back in my arms,

Lancelot


	10. Deathclaws and Letters from The Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z is having difficulties being cooped up on the Prydwen and Danse is missing her badly.

88 Days to Go

He had set up a romantic dinner on the foredeck. It was a cloudless and clear night sky under countless bright stars and planets winking cheerfully at us.

I sipped my wine, and sighed, "So, tell me about your family, Arthur. Are your parents still living?"

I felt a bitterness that I was here with this man, with all the leisure time and the luxuries of high status, when I had never had the chance to have down-time with Danse. We were always on our way to one urgent mission or another. Always. Any time that we had together as lovers had been stolen moments between pressing needs. Why had I felt the need to come here? I could've taken some time – time to recover from the battle - time to spend with Danse and with Shaun. What day was it? 88 more days to go. I tucked those thoughts away and focused on what Arthur was saying.

"No. My father died when I was very young. I was sent away by my mother, Lady Jessica, after my father was killed. It seems there were serious internal conflicts and she believed my life might be in danger. She also wanted me to build character I believe, as I was thought to be on the timid side, believe it or not. With my father dead, she looked to Elder Lyons to foster me. At that time, Elder Owyn Lyons was thought very highly of, so she sent me to The Citadel in the Capital Wasteland. Then she died as well and there was no one to go back to."

"So who took care of you?" finished with our meal, I sighed and sat back.

"No one acted as parent to me, really. Elder Lyons tried to make sure I was safe, fed and being taught. I learned quickly, had the Codex and Protocols memorized by heart. I had some excellent teachers. I was still very shy though, and very, very lonely. There were no children at the Citadel and I wasn't treated as one.

"So, I invented my own friend. I made "friends" with Liberty Prime –he couldn't walk, but he was a very good listener. Scribe Rothchild caught me talking to my robot friend and he scolded me saying it was futile to befriend a robot. He couldn't ever be a friend. He was a machine. Nothing more. He locked me out of the laboratory, when he saw that I still was visiting him."

"That sounds like a very harsh environment for a child. No bedtime stories or cookies and milk? No one to teach about love and life?" A chill breeze ruffled through my hair and I shivered.

Arthur immediately stood and shrugged off his jacket and put it around my shoulders, answering my question as he did. "No. It was all soldiering skills. Sarah taught me how to deliver a killing blow to the kidneys with a combat knife and that was when I fell in love with her. I was 10. She took me out on a patrol with her. She had faith in me, when no one else seemed to. I killed a super mutant but I also accidentally shot her and then I was banned for two years from going on patrol. Sarah never held it against me, she used to laugh when she talked about it."

"She sounds like I would have liked her."

"I believe you would have. In fact, the vault dweller and she got along very well. When I was 12, I was finally taken out on a patrol again on a training run with some very capable knights. I killed two raiders who were sniping us. They told me I had saved my trainers' lives. I was thirteen when I killed the deathclaw and still bear his mark on my face.

"Sounds like you really came into your own as a young teen," I said, impressed, but also saddended. This man had had no childhood at all. Any attempts he had tried to fulfill a young boy's desires were quickly squelched. What had that done to his psyche?

"I suppose so. My biggest accomplishment in the Capital Wasteland was finding and killing Shepherd - a super mutant who was bringing the roaming mutants together, and combining their might into an organized force.

"Then Elder Lyons died and the Brotherhood elected Sarah immediately as Elder. Then she was killed on a mission shortly afterwards. The Brotherhood had a cery difficult time for awhile - no one who tried to step into Sarah's shoes could win the respect of the Order. A few tried, but none stayed as Elder for long.

"The confusion was hurting us. I knew I needed to do something. So, I asked to be sent to the Outcasts to try and broker peace with them. It wasn't that hard – they missed being part of the Brotherhood. I of course, promised them that we would return to our roots, the Codex, and stay true to it. And so, The broken steel sword that was the Brotherhood was forged into one single blade, whole, once again.

" I was elected Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel with the full approval of West Coast Brotherhood, at the tender age of 16. The youngest elder in our history," he put his arm around me and drew he close to his side, and planted a kiss on my forehead. "And that, light of my life, is my tale in its entirety."

"What about the Arthur- worshippers I've heard about?" I asked, "What on earth would cause that?"

Arthur frowned deeply, "These cults that keep appearing treat me as some kind of a messiah – it all stems from a prophecy that had been made that the last of the Maxson line had a soul forged from eternal steel. It just won't die. I think people want a god or messiah and grabbed onto this prophecy with desperation.

"The west coast BOS had been eradicating the cults there, and I have tried to do the same here. I am a human and very proud to be one – I don't need or want to be considered to be divine.

"I would hope, if I do set an example for others, it is that by human effort alone we can do great things. Purely human. This cult worship is the antithesis of what I believe in.

"Everyone has potential.

"They don't need to be more than human or to be augmented by FEV or any such thing.

"That is what I would hope to be believed by all the Brotherhood." He looked at the sky, frowning still.

"That is admirable. But have you ever wondered about that prophecy?" I wondered.

"In all honesty, it terrifies me to think on it too much. You see, I am afraid I could come to believe it if enough people told me it was so. And that is what is so frightening - that I could think of myself as a god." He hugged me tightly to him, "Which is why you are so important to me."

"If I could change how you felt about ghouls who weren't feral, and synths who are free from the Institute, then I would know I had influence on your thinking, Arthur."

"But ghouls can turn feral and synths can malfunction and turn into killers."

"For heaven's sake, so can regular people. More have statistically speaking. There are plenty of true enemies out there without labeling those who pose no threat whatsoever."

"You see? You are not afraid to challenge my point of view. I need that. I need you." And with that he turned me and kissed me deeply.

I allowed myself to melt into his embrace and return his ardor. I was becoming used to the feel of him, his scent, his shape. His mouth and clever hands.

I felt his arousal grow upright and stiff. My body was responding to his desire. He was definately trying to get the most sex out of me that was humanly possible in the three months I had given him.

He took me back to his bed and we made love, twice and then once more in the wee hours of the morning. I had yet to give myself over completely with him. I think I was holding back my response because it would feel so very wrong to have any one else but Danse carry me over the edge of my control.

I did a good job of letting Arthur think he was though. If his doors weren't sound proof, I was giving the crew of the Prydwen lots to gossip about.

79 Days to Go  
"I have request to make." I tried my best to look coquettish.

His dark brows descended and his eyes the color of cold steel were locked on mine.

"Whatever you want." I guess it worked. I felt a little guilty for my manipulation of the man, but then again, he had blackmailed me into being his lover.  
What a weird and perverse world it had become.

"I want to fight a deathclaw with you. With blades only."

His fierce answering grin stirred up my inner warrior. "Consider it done."

It was some mornings later and I had nearly forgotten my request, when Arthur awoke and turned to me with an evil, sleepy smile, "Today's the day," he said mysteriously, his voice rough from sleep. The undercurrent of excitement in his voice had peaked my curiosity.

"Oh? And what day would that be? Wednesday? January 26?"

"It's Thursday the 27th, but no, that's not the day I was referring to."

"Well, are you going to keep me in suspense?" My curiosity was flaming now, and I was wide awake.

"Yes," he grinned, "But not much longer. I will return shortly and you will see what day it is." He dressed in his battle dress uniform and threw on his beloved armored jacket and boots. He tossed me a set of clean BDUs too and told me to don them. Then he left.

As I dressed, marveling at the perfect fit of the BDUs, I wondered what Danse and Shaun were doing today. The thought that Danse might not be able to accept my unfaithfulness to him nearly made me cry, but I tucked that thought far away. No sense worrying about something that might happen. I would save my tears for the real thing and hope it never happened.

Arthur's and my keeping track of the date so well was a countdown for both of us. Mine, until I could be back in the arms of my true love, and back to raise my son, if possible, so that he had the chance to become the man he might become – unlike my true son, who had been robbed of any parents who had even the vaguest semblance of human hearts. He had been raised looking at everything as an experiment, including himself, I suppose. It had damaged him irreparably. This Shaun deserved to have the chance my son was robbed of.

Arthur's countdown was the days he had left with me. I was trying my best to fulfill his desires, but I was also going crazy being kept apart from Danse and my chosen life and also being cooped up on the Prydwen, and mostly in these small quarters. After all the endless walking for months and months, this lack of exercise was driving me nuts. I was gaining weight for the first time since I recovered from cryo. Being in cryogenic storage for two centuries slowly consumes your fat deposits away, slowly but surely. It took several weeks to gain back a reasonable amount of fat. I now had a voracious appetite and eating a meal three times the size I would have had in my old life just to maintain weight and not lose it. It wasn't anything to cause me concern, rather, I rather liked the way it added to my curves, making them more soft and feminine. It made my face softer too, and appealing.

Thinking of the weight gain, I had noted that my breasts were swollen and tender, and I had no stomach for food these last few mornings. My stomach was too queasy to even look at food until noon. It must be near my time. My body's cycle of menstruation had started up just two months ago and I certainly wasn't regular yet. I used to be, before the war. But after childbirth, being frozen and then all the exercise and all the stress since I awoke – well it had its' effect on my physiology. I wondered vaguely how Arthur would deal with me having my period.

I decided I was also going to ask Arthur for some outdoor time with him. I had to get off this ship! I needed a good, hard hike.

Sheesh. All the times I had complained about all the endless walking and now I was aching for an arduous long tromp.

He came back after lunch, which I had wolfed down as if I were starving. I ate as always in the Elder's quarters. I was so tired of being in here!  
He had a wicked gleam in those steel eyes.

"Come on, light of my life, we are going down to the airport."

I belched loudly, enough to embarrass me. Shocked I put my hand over my mouth, way, way too late, of course. Light of his life, indeed.

"Yes, well, the concoction the mess produced today has given everyone a bit of gas," and he produced a deep belch too. He couldn't have done that on purpose, could he?  
I laughed. He was growing on me, in spite of my desire to get back home.

The vertibird ride down was wondrous. The wind was blowing, but the skies were clear, which made for a bumpy ride, but I loved every second of it. I was off the Prydwen.

How did he stand it? Being on board all the time? I knew now why Danse had said he preferred to be in the field. Brandis had said the same. The Prydwen was beautiful, clean and had everything one needed, but it was confining. Danse had said his idea of horror was being trapped in a vault for his whole life and that he wouldn't be able to bear it. The Prydwen was smaller than a vault by a long shot.

We landed and I couldn't help but notice that all eyes were glued to us and watched our every move. And even more on just me. Arthur didn't seem to notice at all. Of course, he had become inured to being gazed at worshipfully everywhere he went.

I kept my head raised high and acted as though I had no idea I was being stared at.

"Come," he took hold of my hand and led me into the building. We walked down a deserted hallway until we came to a locked door. He opened the metal door with a key, and waved me in, "Take your pick," He said.  
"Ooooh," I whispered in wonder. It was an armory. With swords. I was drawn immediately to a gleaming samurai sword and took it off the wall. This had been my favorite part of my Aikido training –the Kumitachi Sword was what I was best at. I tested its balance and its heft. I sliced it through the air a few times. It would do. It would do just fine. It looked to have a fine edge and it was polished to perfection. The leather grip was oiled and supple.

Having chosen my sword, I looked over the armor available. There was this set of sweet, light black gleaming armor, which looked to be extremely strong yet dexterous. It would allow flexibility of movement.  
"Darlin' where have you been all my life?" I breathed as I took it down and tried it on. It wasn't perfect, but close. It could be fitted better – it was meant to fit like a glove, I think, but it would do. I would have to bring it to an armorer and have it fitted, if Arthur let me keep it. I did some practice leaps swinging the sword overhead and slicing it down on my imaginary enemy. I spun and ran and squatted and jumped up, parrying and striking an invisible foe. I launched myself at the wall, and used it to lever myself even higher and swung the sword at my enemy's throat. I landed in with one knee on the concrete, the other bent and ready to launch me again. I stood, and stretched.

This would do. Oh, yes, it would.

As I took the head gear off, I looked to Arthur, to thank him. The look of raw adoration on his face took my words away. Great. I had found another way to his heart. Like I wanted one.  
So I turned the focus back on him. "So, what did you find? Anything good?"

He himself had chosen a two handed bastard sword that looked like it weighed a lot, but probably was only 5 pounds. Yet it took a lot of muscle to wield it with any grace at all.  
I watched him don some combat armor pieces over his precious jacket and do warm up swings with his great sword. By blooded steel, he was quick and strong. Ergh. I was starting to sound like him.  
"It's time," He said, holding out his arm for my hand.

We went where we had built the Molecular Relay, which must have been since dismantled. In its place was an arena. In the arena was a huge cage, and from inside the cage came the thumping and banging from something really big in there.

My eyes widened in amazement.

"Arthur? You really did this … for me?" I was stunned.

"Wait, now, Z. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea. Yes. This is for you, for us. But we had it built because initiates and knights in training need practice on the creatures of the Commonwealth in a somewhat controlled environment. The difference it makes in survival rates on scouting missions is going to be significant, according to Quinlan."

He pointed to a tall emitter outside the walls of the makeshift arena, and said, "We have safeguards. That tech came from the Enclave. If the creature escapes, it will be docile."

Speaking of Quinlan, he approached us. I had never imagined him out of the confines of the Prydwen. He looked like he had bitten into a lemon. Not that anyone here would even know what a lemon was. Not that it was that different from his usual expression either.

"Elder," he thumped his chest, "Z." he bowed his head with a quick dip.

"I still think this is a terrible idea." He gave me a glare that would've burned a whole in my face if it had laser powers, then he looked back to Arthur. "We cannot afford to take chances with your life. The Brotherhood needs you – your life is not your own to throw away. You have a responsibility to keep to your station in life. This is an imprudent endeavor, and I am asking you to please put a stop to this foolishness now."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and laughed shortly and with some bitterness. "Yes, yes, I know, Quinlan. But I am perfectly safe and there's a dozen knights to come to our rescue if something should go amiss. Which it won't. Have some faith in me, Quinlan. I am a man and I need to get out once in a while and practice my skills as well. In truth, I am perishing for want of a good fight. Besides, I've done this before, eh? When I was just a spit of a lad."

I was glad the close fitting head armor hid my face. I was smiling, remembering the tale of boy against deathclaw with just a combat knife. Arthur's description of what really happened what that a terrified teen would've been deathclaw lunch if it hadn't got caught up in a tree root. Still, its claws and mouth could still move. It was still quite an accomplishment.  
He and I entered the arena. Benches had been set up all around the perimeter, and they were packed.

I looked for Haylen or Rhys and didn't see them among the small sea of faces. I didn't see Captain Kells either. Someone had to remain on duty, after all.  
We took positions on either side of the cage.

"Release!" yelled Arthur.

The door of the cage burst open. The huge beast was beautiful in its rage. A chameleon deathclaw, a full-sized healthy looking male, its eyes on fire with fury. It roared and the ground shook and my ears hurt with the force of it. It looked from Arthur to me and back again. Arthur must have looked more threatening, because it came at him with impossible speed, brandishing its deadly, powerful claws, its gaping maw ready to bite him in half.

Arthur danced away from the blow with apparent ease, bringing down his sword with tremendous force as he did, striking a blow to the deathclaw's arm. Black blood seeped out, but the tough hide kept it from being any kind of disabling blow. He struck it on the back, not even making mark on its hide, and dodged to its side and then its front where he was able to strike at the underside of its neck. There was a vulnerable spot there – but it was too high for me to aim at most of the time. The deathclaw swiped at him so quickly, he couldn't dodge the blow entirely. He tumbled back and rolled away before he got to his feet again. Sword at the ready, a fierce half grimace - half mad grin on his face.

Beautiful, I thought. But he's not going to have all the fun.

I found a small rock and hurled it with all my strength at the monstrous head.  
"Yo, handsome! Over here!" I yelled.  
Both the deathclaw and Maxson turned to look at me. I rolled my eyes.

The deathclaw obliged me by charging head-on at me. I used my sword to easily deflect its arm and brought my blade under and up, right into the soft tissue of its belly. It howled its agony and leapt away from me, nearly taking my sword with it. It roared and came at me again, I dodged it and sliced at an exposed spot on its underside again. I pirouetted away from another swipe of its huge claw, and ducked away from its biting jaws. I was able to cut it on the heel, and then deliver another deep stab in its already punctured abdomen. It was bleeding profusely now and looking a little confused. I lightly jumped away from its deadly claw in an attempt to eviscerate me. I sliced at its digits and one of its clawed fingers came flying off leaving a spray of blood in its wake. I love this sword!

It came at me again, and as it lowered its huge head, I jumped atop it and leapt over its body. It looked confused as if wondering where its prey had gone to.  
I affected a bow towards Arthur, who returned the bow and then proceeded to deliver the last and killing blows.

We had made it look easy.

But in reality, you would be in the deathclaw's territory. It used the rocky heights and valleys to its advantage. And it wouldn't be kept in a cage and released on flat concrete – no. When facing a deathclaw, and sometimes more than one, you faced them with the environment at their advantage, not yours. But still, it wasn't a bad idea, practicing with all this protection and back –up.  
Arthur took my hand and winked at me. He pulled me just a bit, and I understood. We bowed deeply to our cheering audience and then strode out of the arena as victors. Ad Victoriam, indeed.

 

Danse

 

Danse waited for the courier, hoping for word from Z. His letter was ready to go. This time he had a bit more time to write to her. That first letter was so very rushed. Shaun, outside the Caravaner's tent, was listening, rapt, to one of Lucas Miller's guards as he told the boy some awful tale of danger and adventure.  
Preston had been gone for three weeks now and had sent word back that so far only one settlement declined the agreement. He stated in his letter that in time he was sure they would come around.  
He was shocked into utter stillness when he saw Haylen, without her ever-present scribe hat on, enter the Castle through the road entrance. She had dark blonde hair, shoulder length. He never even knew. With her was Walter Greene, Initiate, and Lancer Hetz Gurowski. On foot.  
His joints finally unfroze, and he jogged up to them. He wore the Minuteman's version of a uniform, a tan and brown shirt with khakis and boots and a militia hat.  
"Haylen! Greene! Lancer Gurowski! What brings you to the Castle?" he said.  
"Danse, we've come to sign up with you. We want to join your ranks."  
"That's right, sir. We found out that Maxson has coerced Z into being with him, sir. And, well, sir, the prime mission of securing the Commonwealth for the settlers' well-being sits better in our gullets than putting the gathering of technology above them. You are the better alternative. We didn't have one before this time."  
Danse felt a moment's anger at their betrayal of his beloved Brotherhood, but squelched it almost as soon as it showed its ugly face.  
He had changed. He was changed. He had worked side by side with the ghouls that lived at all the settlements and especially The Slog. Brian Virgil and Strong had helped Z. They would never have found the Institute without Nick Valentine. He had met synths on the run from the Institute's grasp. He was a synth, but most of all, so was Shaun, this boy whom he had come to love with his whole heart.  
Z had told him about the genetic connection they had from sharing DNA, so no doubt this was part of how he felt about the boy too. It didn't matter one whit. Danse was determined that Shaun would have both a mother and a father in this world. Knowing they were genetically related only strengthened his resolve and his claim to fatherhood. They were both synths. Another thing to bond them together.  
If he was accepted back into the Brotherhood today – if somehow Z managed to get him reinstated into their ranks – would he be able to take on the mission of "cleansing the Commonwealth" of all mutated or irradiated beings and all synths? He would not – no, he could not. He would have to work to change the Brotherhood's attitude as to who were their true enemies and who posed not only no risk to them or the Commonwealth, but added to its value.  
Until such a time, he would remain with the Minutemen. And he would accept any who came and wished to serve. He only hoped this wouldn't endanger the peace that Z was brokering with Arthur. If all her sacrifice was for naught… he couldn't bear to think on that.  
He opened his arms to Haylen and she rushed into his embrace.  
"I have missed you so much, Danse," she said softly.  
"And I you, Haylen." Danse said releasing her. "What is poor Rhys going to do without you?"  
"I feel bad for him, but you know his history. He would stick with the Brotherhood even if they turned into the Enclave."  
Just then, the mess bell rang, and Danse smiled, "You are just in time for Annie's lunch. You are in for a treat. Let's go and speak over lunch, eh? Then we'll get you quartered up and discuss what kind of duties you are suited for."

 

Letter to Z  
Letters from The Castle

February 02, 2289

My beloved,  
Our time apart has slowed down the sun and the moon. The days and nights pass a hundred times slower than they should.  
At night, I go up on the wall and gaze at the Prydwen, knowing you are there – my heart's treasure inside the gem of the Brotherhood. I can see you clearly in my mind's eye, and you are always looking for me.  
I long for your return, but know you must keep your word.  
I forgot to tell you in our rush to get letters back to you that a certain personage of your acquaintance is here. He informed me that you had given him your word that you would take him with you.  
The boy we are both concerned with finished our chess set today. We played, and the little rapscallion beat me handily. My affection for lad grows daily. The boy and I have set up his own space here, and, as per his request, we have set him up with his own workshop with tools and materials. He has already made a mod for my gauss rifle. And it works! Our good Sturges altered the heights and sizes of things to match the boy's reach. The child is delighted with this. Preston and Sturges gifted the child with a boy-sized laser musket. We have daily shooting practice together. He has a natural gift for gunnery.  
I am certain that my missives will be scrutinized by Quinlan or his scribes, so I will have to wait for certain things to be said in person.  
Our home outside the Castle walls is full of you. The things you've collected, the armor and arms, the little decorative items you've kept. The bed still smells of you and I imagine you are there with me in my dreams.  
Preston is gone with Sturges, Gwen Owen, Arnold Bates, and Ron Rosner on a visitation to all the settlements. He is bringing them copies of the Treaty to see which communities are willing to abide by its conditions. I am sure he will have close to 100% acceptance. It is a very beneficial agreement at a very reasonable cost. We have set up a bit of a textile operation here too, to make the flags needed for each settlement to fly. It uses recycled cloth as well as mutfruit leaf fibers. The cloth it produces is hardy although rough. Perfect for flags, but not for clothing. There is a team of people working on making a softer cloth for making clothing, bedding and the like.  
I will leave you with this image, to carry in your heart and warm your soul when you are missing us.  
The boy truly has won over all the hearts here in the Castle. The Caravaners carry tales of terror and gossip and the boy is the first one to greet them when they arrive, begging for their stories. The Provisioners, too, have become accustomed to his attentions. If he is delayed at all when they arrive, they ask where he is. They look forward to seeing him as much as he looks forward to seeing them. He truly has charmed us all.  
The image I would have you carry of me in your heart, is me telling you how much I love you, with you in my arms, after our joining of hearts, minds and bodies.  
Forever in love,  
Lancelot


	11. Spies and Island Interludes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur continues to try to win Z's heart which belongs to Danse. Dr. Garner is a deep plant of the Consortium sent to spy on The Castle and Z.

Spectacle Island, March 02- April 02, 2289

I stretched lazily and yawned. Arthur was gone and a knock on the door said my breakfast was here. I slipped on one of his large shirts and let the page in.  
I was going to go crazy trapped in this big silver balloon.

I ate my breakfast while rereading my letters again. The letters were starting to fall apart from all my handling.

When I heard his footsteps approaching, I quickly tucked the letters away in my duffel and arranged my face to greet him.

He smiled at me, with that twinkle in his eye. Good grief, he was ready again.

"Arthur," I said with the sultry undertone I was getting very good at, "I really, really need to get off this ship. I know of an Island that I visited once that has tech your scribes would love to get their hands on. It's a frequency emitter that keeps all the mirelurks at bay. If we could replicate the frequency, it would make both our peoples a lot safer. And it's deserted.

So let's say you and I take a little Island vacation, before the scribes come? There are some dilapidated buildings there that could use a little TLC and we could set up a water purifier there. We could have us a romantic little camp out for a few weeks, maybe?""

"Make a list of what the place needs, and I'll have it dropped off for us," he stepped into me and pulled me into his powerful chest, "and then we'll go. Just you and I." then his lips descended onto mine and there we were – back in bed again.

The vertibird dropped us off on Spectacle Island then took off.

It was a beautiful day. How my perceptions had changed of the Commonwealth! The briny air and warm sand was enchanting. I untied my boots and rolled up the legs of my pants. I needed a light summer dress for this place. This was just what I needed. The soothing sound of the surf lapping at the shore was mesmerizing. Sea gulls called to each other announcing a yummy piece of rotting mirelurk or fish to each other.  
Arthur looked around, studying the island. Probably looking for the best defensible spots and the most vulnerable areas. I shook my head. Danse would be doing the same thing, I reminded myself.

"Come, I'll show you the transmitter. When I was here last, I repaired it," I said, pulling him by the hand. What I didn't mention was that I had been with Danse. Before we had come together. I had certainly thought about making love with him while I was here, and now, it was going to be Arthur I gave myself to on this lovely, lonely isle.

He looked over the transmitter and grunted his approval. "Yes, this is great tech. Mirelurks have been the bane of the Brotherhood everywhere we've been near the water. You say you repaired this thing by yourself? You are a multi-talented woman. Thank you, Z, this is a powerful piece of tech."

"You're quite welcome. Now you said you were going to have the water purifier and generators brought here? We should get them set up, shouldn't we? And did you bring lumber and tools?"  
"You have been cooped up too long, haven't you?" he smiled. "Everything is here. Everything you put on your list and a bit more that the scribes thought we might need."

"Let's get to work!" I encouraged.

He grinned, catching a bit of my enthusiasm, I hoped. "Let's do."

The old three story house wasn’t in too bad of shape, considering its vintage. We had to patch two of the outer walls and parts of the roof to make it weatherproof. At least from the rain. It would always be drafty, but the weather was fine. When this place was settled eventually, it would have to be insulated in some fashion to get through frigid weather. 

We boarded over a few of the windows of the parts of the house we’d be using.

At dusk, we gathered up a good pile of driftwood and started a bonfire. The driftwood's flames were green and blue. It was lovely.

My muscles ached in a good way and as I was rolling my shoulder to lessen the ache, Arthur came up behind me and started a deep massage that felt heavenly.

"Ahh," I said, "That's wonderful," I rolled my head slowly a few times, enjoying the loosening of the tightened tendons and fascia.

"I have to tell you Z, I am sorry I have been so voracious in my possession of your lovely body. It's just that I keep thinking, this is all I will have of you and what I do now will have to last a lifetime. And every time I look at you, I need you again, because soon I won't be able have you at all."

I was surprised at this admission. It meant that he knew I didn't love him and that I did mean to leave him on April 14th, at midnight.

"Oh, Arthur…" I murmured, not sure what I could say.

"Hush, don't say anything," he said as his hands strayed from my back to my front. He stroked me gently, "But I do mean for you to have a real orgasm for me, while we are together on this island."

Oh! He knew, damn him.

Then he started working on that goal.

Holotape #10 Transcribed by me

I have a quiet moment. Arthur is catching a nap and I am on the beach, on an ancient but, amazingly, still whole chaise. Naked. It feels delicious. The sun feels heavenly, not too hot, but warm and deeply soothing.  
Arthur is wearing me out! We are having as much sex in these three months as most couples do for their whole married life! Maybe that's a slight exaggeration. I am always a little sore now, because he doesn't give me a break. Well, a deal's a deal. Do men get sore? I never heard Nate complain.

Or Danse. Oh, I miss him so much.

My period never came and I am still having the tenderness in my breasts as well as a sensitive stomach in the mornings. Looking down at myself right now, the bulge is small but it's there. I am pregnant. I remember all too well what it feels like and there is no doubt.

How will Danse feel about this child? I have read his letters a hundred times over, and know that he and Shaun have bonded deeply and they are, for all intents and purposes, father and son from now until death parts them.

Will he be able to love Arthur's child? I am asking so much of him. And yet, reading his letters leaves me no fear that he will ever stop loving me. Or Shaun.

Yeah, I can picture him, holding this newborn baby in his arms and, seeing us in her or him. Any child of mine is automatically related to him through our shared DNA.

Uh oh, King Arthur had awoken from his royal nap and is coming. He probably wants to do it again. Or three times. Ouch. Signing off.  
   
Letter from The Castle

My beloved Z,

It will be a month from today that you will be back in my arms. A month is nothing compared to the rest of our lives.  
The child is doing well. He is happy and interested in everything. I have taken him camping with a few Minutemen to watch our perimeter. Rest easy, my beloved, I would never take a chance with his life. We hunted our own dinner, prepared the meat and cooked it with some wild corn and tatos. He was delighted. He picks up on things so quickly it's uncanny. He has more than a normal share of intelligence, I think. He certainly keeps me on my toes. We have become inseparable. I told him he could call me dad if he wishes, and he has started to do just that. I can't tell you how incredible that feels. I used to think the Brotherhood was the pinnacle of my existence, but this is so much bigger, even though it is so much smaller, if you can understand that.  
I am writing to tell you of a strange occurrence. Brother Maynard from the Church of the Children of Atom came seeking you all the way from the Crater in the Glowing Sea. He was so distressed and exhausted it was impossible to communicate clearly. After we had him seen by the new Doctor, Adam Garner, who just came to us two weeks ago, and after he had eaten, hydrated, and then slept was he understandable.  
It seems that power armored soldiers came in vertibirds and took most of the Children, including Mother Isolde. He is begging for our help to find them and bring them home. The power armor he describes sounds very similar to what the Enclave soldiers had in the Capital Wasteland. I found this more than a little disturbing.  
I have sent a missive through our new courier system to Nick Valentine and asked for his help. If you can think of other sources of information, we could certainly use them. I don't know how to contact Desdemona and am not sure she would be willing to help considering the ones needing it. Still, she might have ears to the ground and heard something that could help  
I think you should inform Arthur. If this is related in any way to the Enclave or an organization like them - he needs to know.  
He might not care about the Children of Atom, but he will care if the Enclave has re-invented itself. The fact that they use vertibirds is cause for alarm by itself. Adding in Brother Maynard's description of their armor, their numbers and professionalism in the capture of his people, makes this matter even more urgent. He said there were at least two dozen armored soldiers who moved and acted quickly and decisively. No one was harmed, but the Children were bound and taken into their vertibirds. He said they flew off to the northwest.  
I had hoped with the Institute gone, we would have peace. More settlements are creating new products and making new inventions, because now they are not just fighting daily to survive. Every settlement has now signed off on your Treaty. The flag duos are flying proudly at every community and temporary quarters are being set up for Brotherhood guests. I am so very proud of you and what you have wrought, my General, my love.  
Remember that when you feel pain for the Institute's destruction, because I know you do.  
Speaking of new products, Shaun wants us to make and sell our chess sets now. I think I will encourage him to try it on his own. He has picked up wood carving as easily as he has learned everything we've taught him.  
I am anxiously awaiting your return so that we can be the family we were meant to be.  
I know that whatever or Whoever has entwined our fates together, will never let them unravel. You are as much a part of me as is possible for a living being.  
I love you, Z with everything that I am and everything I ever will be.  
Your Lancelot  
   
Report from Asset in field  
___  
EYES ONLY – Consortium Commander   
Research and Development Report and Mission Requests  
With the acquisition of the thirteen Institute scientists who survived the destruction of their underground facility, we have been able to recreate the formulas to create synths.  
The building of the machinery and laboratories will take up to two to three years, considering the rarity of the components necessary, unless by some miracle we find what we need sooner.  
Rather than "Mankind Redefined" which was the Institute's goal ours has a much more modest goal; to create super soldiers for the Consortium, so that we have an invincible standing army.  
Mission Requests:   
Search and Reconnaissance:  
• Find the materials and components we need to build the equipment to begin producing synths. See attached list for materials needed.  
• It is rumored that the top bio science researcher Brian Virgil is still alive and at large as well. We should like covert operations and espionage divisions to add finding him as a high priority mission. We need to investigate any useful purpose for forced evolution and if it can be refined, perhaps used to make the synth soldiery.  
Espionage and Asset Placement:  
The rumors of the Institute director's mother as a source of pre-war DNA have been substantiated. We are requesting agents Horatio to infiltrate her current location locally known as "the Castle." A minor power in the Commonwealth, but not to be taken lightly as it seems to be growing in numbers and becoming more organized.  
Further investigation must be done in order to determine the value of this DNA in our plans for our country if any.  
End of Report  
Dr. Emil Rathborne, Head of R & D

January 25, 2289- February 21-2289  
Observation Report to the Commander of the Consortium on Sole Survivor "Z" Sent by Agent Percival through Agent Horatio.  
PHASE 1 of MISSION Z ACCOMPLISHED  
I have successfully infiltrated "The Castle."  
COVER: Name Dr. ADAM GARNER  
I have been readily accepted as the only survivor of a raider attack on a settlement somewhere to the southwest of this location. My story was given as we planned - the only reason I survived was that I was away to tend to a sick hermit, (Agent Horatio) and when I returned, the annihilation of my fictional settlement (reality-based on an old abandoned settlement site, just in case the truthfulness of my cover was investigated) had already occurred. I humbly begged to join this community, offering my skills as a physician freely. I was gladly accepted. There seems to be no suspicions that I am anything other than what I claim to be. Since the Commonwealth Institute's destruction, almost all information has been lost on research, all synth files, etc., and so I must rely on my powers of observation.  
GENERAL INTELLIGENCE:  
The subject, Z, sole survivor of cryogenically stored humans in Vault 111 is being held on the Prydwen. I have not been told directly, but it seems there is some agreement between her and Elder Maxson that she remain for a set period of time.  
The settlement includes the some of following persons of interest;  
Danse, ex-BOS officer, human or Gen 3 Synth?  
Shaun, male child, her son,   
Preston Garvey, human male in his 30s, 2nd in Command of the Minutemen  
Also note for this record that the site has been surrounded with various kinds of mines, trip wires, searchlights and laser and missile turrets. If needed, I can send diagrams with the locations of defenses, although I cannot guarantee they will remain static.  
IMPORTANT INTELLIGENCE  
One of the Children of Atom has come here, seeking help to find his missing brethren. Garvey and Danse have offered him their hospitality and aid. I saw to the man myself as the physician here, and thought perhaps I should quietly poison him, but not knowing what my superiors would want, I did what was asked of me and cared for his exposure and wounds.  
I am keeping a close watch on the situation and will continue to send updated information when appropriate.  
Percival


	12. Of Kings and Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has a line been crossed that can't be taken back? Has Arthur won Z's Heart ?

Of Kings and Queens  
________________________________________  
During the third week of our stay on Spectacle Island, a huge rad storm struck. We both dosed ourselves with Rad-X and RadAway and went into the most interior room in the house, where we had placed the bed the vertibirds had delivered to us. Although we had made repairs to make the house fairly weatherproof, nothing but lead and several feet of earth could stop radiation.  
Arthur and I huddled in bed, while we let the storm have its way.

We had brought several books with us in case we got bored and we had both just found something to read by the lantern light.

Thunder boomed overhead, coming closer with each strike. The rain was a cacophony of sound on the boards we had used to cover the windows; the storm seeking for entry and finding its way in. Our work hadn’t been perfect, after all. Tiny drops of rain finding their way around the ends of the boards were turning into a tiny rivulet. 

Between the lightning and following cracks of thunder, there was another sound that set off all my alarm bells.

There was something huge out there and it sounded angry.

"The transmitter must have been hit!" I said, with wide eyes. "This island is going to be flooded with mirelurks!"

Then our carefully repaired walls were smashed in by a creature I had seen only once before and had hoped never to see again. She had been at the taking back of the Castle.  
A mirelurk queen.

Like a queen bee or ant, the queen was 20 times the size of a normal mirelurk. And she spewed a deadly and highly radioactive poison out of her spouts, in addition to her having powerful pincers. She also spewed out scads of hatchlings seemingly at will. Hatchlings can kill someone easily because although they are not that strong or resilient, they tend to come at you in large groups. And they are nimble little things.  
Both of us were naked. Great. My rifle and sword were in the outer room. I threw a small table at the thing and scrambled out of bed to get to my weapons.  
The nasty hatchlings were biting at my legs with their poisonous teeth.

Arthur threw himself at me, snatched me up and ran into the room where our weapons were. The queen was aiming for us with her spouts spewing her deadly fluids, but he dodged every drop.  
He placed me down, throwing me my plasma rifle and my sword and snatched his own Final Judgment and began to blast away at the queen through the broken wall she was still trying to finish demolishing to get at us.  
I used my sword to get every last single one of the nasty hatchlings.  
Then when I couldn't find another single of her wretched spawn, I aimed my plasma rifle and let her have it.  
I watched Arthur as he danced away from every spout-full of poison and every attempt of hers to skewer him or cut him in half. He had the same mad grin on his face as when we fought the deathclaw together. I grinned and shook my head.

At last, she fell. Gross. She was leaking all sorts of disgusting fluids all over our house. I wasn't going to be sleeping here tonight.  
"We've got to get to the transmitter!" I yelled over the storm's loud voice.

He nodded, and threw my BDUs to me, while he took his. He was still just carrying his as we rushed to the workshop area of the house. Still intact so far.

"We had better grab some tools," I called out to him, sliding into my BDUs. He was going for something in the ruined room with the corpse of the queen, when he stopped and froze.  
"Watch out! Z!" he screamed above the wind.

A mirelurk hunter was suddenly there, arising magically out of the pea soup, coming at me with his pincers ready and spewing a glob of the same nasty stuff they all seem to generate. It hit me full force, right in my face. I was blinded.

Before I could get my face wiped up to be able to see again, he was there. He put himself in front of me and started blasting the thing with his Gatling. But it needs time to spin up to speed and the thing got hold of his still bare leg. He screamed in agonized pain, and dropping my rifle, I brought up my sword and cut off the thing's claw with one slice. Then I stabbed it over and over until it stopped.  
Arthur’s bleeding was arterial spurting. I had to do something quickly or the BOS would be electing a new Elder.

I tore off my BDUs and, cursing, tried to rip the tough material. Argh! I couldn't do it! Looking around, close to a panic, I took a saw from the tools on the workbench and sawed furiously through the material and ripped off a sleeve that would do for a tourniquet.

He was already losing consciousness, the color leaving his face, leaving him white with blue lips. Watching him as he had fought the queen, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was only hurt because he had been trying to save me in my carelessness. Damn and double damn.

I could see the shapes of more mirelurks in the distance. Dozens of the things. Maybe hundreds. All coming ashore. All looking for prey.

I half dragged half carried Arthur back into the ruined house. I got him halfway up the stairs when the mirelurk king found us.

The king has an added gift. He can use sonic blasts like no whale or dolphin or bat from my time has ever had. It hurts you and deafens you, and leaves you defenseless for a few seconds like a flash-bang grenade.  
I picked up Arthur's Final Judgment and sheltering Arthur with my body, and didn't stop shooting until it was more than obvious it was dead, and the barrels of the Gatling were red hot.

Somehow, somehow, I got Arthur all the way up those stairs and lay him down with his feet propped up. I snuck downstairs, ever so carefully, and saw several mirelurks downstairs, examining their king and queen. Looking for us. Using the queen's lifeless carcass as a shield from their sight, I scanned the room.

I found Arthur's duffle underneath the ruins of our bed and tip toed back upstairs with it trying not to make a sound. As if in this rad storm any sound I made would be heard!

I gave him the stimpac right in the spot where the artery was severed and prayed it would do the trick.

My heart in my mouth, I counted to 10 slowly then undid the tourniquet, and that horrible spraying of the dark red blood did not start again.

His eyes fluttered and then opened.

I didn't think, I just leaned down and kissed him. He returned my kiss with a gentleness that was not like him. I didn't want to think about the barrier I had just crossed.  
We didn't have time anyway. If we didn't get that transmitter up and running again, we were going to be mirelurk dinner. There were just too many of them.

"Can you call for help?" I yelled over the storm.

"Radio is down there, don't think we can get to it." He groaned, still in rough shape from all the loss of blood. I looked closely at him. He wasn't out of the woods, yet.

"I'm going out there. I fixed it before – I know where the lines are. I just need some electrical tape and some wiring. Which I got from the workbench, right here." At least I had the instincts to grab what I would need for the repairs even as I was trying to save Arthur.

"No! You will not go!" I looked at him, his paleness was deathly. He would not be able to fight.

"Arthur, if I can make it to the radio, I will. If not, I am going to try and get to the transmitter."

He looked like he was going to argue some more, but then he sighed. It was unlike any sound I had ever heard from him before.

"If this is the end, Z, for me or for you or for both of us, I need you to know, I love you. These past several weeks have been so very wonderful for me and I thank you for giving me love before this life passes from me."  
"I know, Arthur, I have come to love you too."

He smiled then. It was a sweet smile and one that struck me to my heart. I thought of the poor child who had never had a childhood.

I set him up in the most defensible position we could with his Final Judgment and all the weapons and ammo that had been in his duffle bag. They would only be able to come at him one at a time from this spot at the top of the staircase. He just had to stay conscious. Luckily, in his duffle, there were food and fluids too.

"Drink up this juice and water, Arthur, you need to replenish your body fluids, promise me."

"Promise." He gazed at me, "and you, promise you will proceed slowly and carefully. Don't let them catch you by surprise."

"Deal." I was thinking he meant like the mirelurk hunter that surprised me at the workbench. I grimaced at the thought.

Then I crept out the upstairs window. The storm was easing up a bit and I could see a bit further. I saw the little metal shed where the transmitter was located. I followed the power lines and saw where the break was.  
The problem was there were a gazillion mirelurks everywhere.

Then I spotted what could be a solution to my problem.  
*****************************************************  
It was dark under here, but so far so good.

I could hear when the mirelurks came close – they make a weird wet, clicking, scraping sound. But they came and went, not seeming to notice me at all.  
I had to lift the mirelurk carapace I was crawling around under to make sure I was headed towards the break in the line to the transmitter.  
The storm abruptly came to an end, and I heard the sound I had been dreading. Final Judgment was shooting non-stop. He was going to be killed. I dared not rush through this, though, or I wouldn't be alive to give him a chance to survive this.

I crept forward another dozen feet then took a peek. I was so close! Just another – then the shell was knocked off my back and I faced a hunter. No! I was almost there! Just another two feet!  
"Disgusting cousin of a she-lobster!" I yelled as I whipped my plasma rifle off my back and blasted him. He was forced back by 10 feet or so. I quickly climbed atop my carapace and grabbed the two ends of the broken wire. I could hear the other mirelurks coming to investigate. Lots and lots of squishy clickings!

I gave a quick turn and blasted my rifle in a wide arc then held the two pieces together and with the roll of tape held in my mouth, ripped a piece off and quickly taped them together.

The hunter had reached me again and begun to grab at me, when the horrible screech of the emitter began. All the mirelurks froze, then fled. Including my hunter.  
I sat down on my butt hard and began to cry.

I didn't hear Final Judgment.

Had it been quiet for a while – too long? Was I too late?

I ran back to the house, as fast as my shaking legs could carry me, still naked as a jay bird. After I had demolished my BDUs to make a tourniquet, I hadn't bothered putting the ruins of them back on.  
I took the steps three at a time, and found him, smoking Gatling cradled on his thighs.

"By all the Steel in the world, woman, you are magnificent," he grinned at me, though still deathly pale.

I tackled him and this time I took him. On the wood floor, no blanket, no bed roll.

 

He smelled of blood, salt and sweat. His breathing was rapid and so was his heartbeat. His chest hair was damp from the exertion of the battle, his thighs overly warm from Final Judgment's heat and weight.  
His hair had grown out over the last few weeks, past sharp post- razor nubs into longer, softer hair on the sides of his head, and his longer beard had softened too.

He tasted of salt and heat. He felt like living flame in my hands.

He was breathing shallowly, and close to panting. He had not recovered from his blood loss, but that wasn't enough to stop me. Nor was it enough to make him ask me to stop.  
As I moved carefully, positioning myself over him, I looked into those steel eyes and found a desperate passion there. I leaned forward, and kissed that damp chest, and teased his nipples with my tongue.

"Tell me…tell me you want me…" he said, roughly, still breathing too quickly, stroking my back, my rear.

"I want you, Arthur, I need you," I said huskily, "I thought I had lost you."

"Never," he said groaning with both pain and arousal. "I will always be here for you."

Cool and delicious air from the sea came in through the windows, and made breathing easier.

I took my time with him, took the time to allow myself to be fully ready for him, and for the first time, allowed him to truly pleasure me to the utmost degree. If I was hurting him, he had no complaints. I drew out our lovemaking, stopping when he or I became too close to peaking, slowing it down so that it lasted, and then, lasted even longer.

"Let yourself go, this time, Z, please, I beg you." he whispered harshly.

 

I knew when I could not bear to hold off any longer and he was more than ready - then I gave in to the frantic pace that drew us both to the edge and over it. He was trembling from the aftermath, but also from the weakness of his near brush with death and blood loss. Me, I was trembling from having broken down the barrier I had erected between him and me since the beginning.

We never did call for help. We just moved into the tiny little workshop that was still standing and had doors we could secure at night.

We spent the final week truly making love – a two way street. Our love making must have been more satisfactory for him too, for it now seemed it was quality over quantity and he wasn't wearing me out anymore.  
Maybe it was a version of Stockholm syndrome – but no, I still loved Danse and I still was going back to him. He was the one I had chosen. He was mine. But I also had come to care deeply about this man, this wretched man who had coerced me into his arms.

Two weeks until I was back home. I just had to stay sane until that time.  
I felt like I had been split into two halves.

The next two weeks, I gave myself to Arthur - fully, holding back nothing.

 

When we got back aboard the Prydwen, I was given the packet of letters that had been waiting for me.

I lifted my eyebrows at the number of letters.

The scribe shrugged apologetically, "We were told you weren't to be disturbed on your island retreat."

I rubbed my forehead and tried to shed my anger. He had wanted me all to himself. Could I blame him? Yes, I could, I thought. If there was something urgent in here, there would be hell to pay.

I went and found a single table in the mess hall with a cup of real tea, and a slice of toast with jam, and began to read my letters. I couldn't help but smile as I read Shaun's sweet note. He was getting very good at wood carving and had sold his first chess set. He had also improved his accuracy and range with his laser musket. He reported that he liked camping, except for the lumpy ground. It made his back hurt.

Then I read Danse's letter. And re-read it.

I had to find Arthur. He needed to know about this Enclave-like force that was kidnapping Commonwealth citizens.

I heard his voice and Quinlan's. I was standing outside of Quinlan's quarters. I stopped, feeling my entrance now would be awkward. They seemed to be arguing. I didn't want to eavesdrop but I wasn't going to walk away, either.

"Damn it, Arthur," Quinlan snapped, "We've now got over a dozen deserters. That's a problem! Any recruitment efforts we have made have fallen flat. They would all rather be part of the Minutemen. And according to my sources, the Enclave may be back. So if you are finished having fun with your paramour, perhaps we can address these most serious issues. "

"Tell me about this new force. How do you know? What's your source?"

I stepped into his quarters then and waved my letter at Quinlan, "Here it is, isn't it Quinlan. Danse's letter."

Arthur's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He looked to Quinlan than back to me.

"Is that true?" he asked Quinlan.

"Of course it's true," he said impatiently, "We read all her missives going out and coming in."

"Let me read this letter, please," he asked politely, holding out his hand that had been pleasuring me not a half hour ago.

"I would prefer you just read the second page," I said blushing. I didn't want him knowing about Shaun. With Quinlan's snooping, he would know everything soon enough.  
"If that is your wish," he bowed his head and took the second page of the letter. He would see Danse's endearments at the end of the letter; he would just have to deal with that part. And I was glad. I needed to re-anchor myself in reality again. My reality, my home was Danse.

His elder frown was back full force by the time he had re-read the letter three times. 

"Who are these people that might be of help? This Desdemona and Valentine? How might they know anything that would be of service to us?" he asked me.

"Desdemona is just someone who happens to keep tabs on a lot of things in the Commonwealth. Valentine is a private detective who specializes in missing persons, out of Diamond City. He's the one who helped me find Kellogg, the Institute's hit man." Quinlan's head would explode if he knew Desdemona was the head of the Railroad whose whole mission in life was to rescue synths from slavery and prejudice.

He started to pace, "So they flew to the northwest from the Crater. We'll have to start scouting missions. We'll need several vertibirds to search in grid fashion. We need maps of the areas surrounding the Commonwealth. Quinlan, have your scribes prepare me one. A 200 mile radius to start with. They may be underground, like the last Enclave outpost, but we have to try."

"What about the deserters, Elder? And recruitment?" Quinlan shot me a look as though I was somehow to blame for these problems.

"We obviously need better public relations. With the treaty in place, we need our men to be more visible and more approachable. During their tech recovery, I will order them to start checking in on the settlements and offering a hand if they need one. There will be some young people who will be attracted, there always are. As to the deserters, we will have our scouts keep an eye out for any of them. They need to be brought back and be put on trial."

"Is that really necessary?" I asked, worried for Clarke.

"There must be consequences to actions, Z, even if they end up being released in the end, they must answer to their brothers and sisters for abandoning them. There must be some form of punishment."  
I shuddered, thinking of Landers and his idea of punishment. Time for a change of subject. We were never going to agree on this one.

"Why don't you come with me to Diamond City to talk with Valentine?" I asked Arthur.

"Do you really believe he could be of any assistance?"

"I don't know, but he knows a lot of people and has helped a lot of them. He can send word throughout the Commonwealth through this network. If you don't cast your line into the pond, you can't expect to catch a fish."

"Alright," he said, frowning. "Quinlan, I expect those maps to be ready when I get back and marked quadrant by quadrant for vertibird scouting. Now, I am going to call for my officers to brief them."  
The announcement was made and the officers gathered on the foredeck.

 

"My Brothers, my sisters," Arthur said in his King voice, "With the Institute gone, we thought our job was done here. But a new and insidious threat has come to light. It appears the Enclave or a new organization sprung from its remnants has made an incursion near this area.

They have kidnapped nearly a whole community of Atom's children. With a fleet of vertibirds and black power armor. The witness described the armor well. Our old enemies have reappeared and they mean no good.

There is no one else to stop them. No one but the Brotherhood has ever been able to stand up to them and defeat them.

It is a time to dig deep into your hearts and stir up your courage, for this foe is wily and has never had mankind's best interests at heart – only those they choose to deem important.

We will lose some of our number facing this enemy, but we have no choice. We are steel. We are forged in the fires and are hardened. We will defeat them. Again. And as many times as the hydra grows another head, we will be there. Waiting.

I will need vertibird pilots ready to go once we have plotted out a search grid. I need you to ask all your men to question all Commonwealth residents they come across if they have seen this black power armor or vertibirds that do not carry the Brotherhood mark. We will have scribes make drawings of the power armor to show to others.

We are called to war, brothers and sisters, and we are called to win.

Ad Victoriam!"

He thumped his chest hard and looked at each man or woman as they returned the salute and departed to spread the word.

How long since this letter came? I looked at its date. It was two weeks old. Two weeks.

Poor Mother Isolde and Sister Layla. I hope Arthur's orders not to be disturbed wouldn't cost them their lives.


	13. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Z travel to Diamond City looking for clues to help them find the new mysterious enemy

"One day, mankind will not have to hide behind ugly, rusted walls in squalor. The Brotherhood will make the world a safer, better place for all," Arthur said, wrinkling his nose a little at the odors of the close packed city that was built inside an old baseball stadium, and looking over the market place.

I couldn't help the feeling of being insulted by his over-simplification of Diamond City. The people here were proud of their city. They were safe and many prospered here. Nick thought it was the best the Commonwealth had to offer. He counted himself lucky to be there.

I let his comment go without any response from me. There were so many things he and I would never see eye to eye on. And after all, the first time I had seen Diamond City I had thought similar things. I was still pretty fresh out of cryo, and my yesterdays were from a pre-war Commonwealth of Massachusetts and were still the images I had stored up. I couldn't help but see things in a before and after image. But it's the same kind of thing as a person feeling they could complain good naturedly about their family or friend, but God help another person who criticized them!

The vertibird had had to drop us off atop a nearby building. Quinlan insisted we bring two knights with us as extra protection, and again, I held my tongue. I knew we didn't need the bodyguards. But I only had 12 days to go before I could go back home.

Arthur garnered many blatant ogles as we walked the boardwalk towards Nick's agency. He didn't seem to notice, but I sure did. His regal posture and cool eyes made him look like a visiting dignitary. Which I guess he was. Our escort of knights in power armor only made us stick out more.

"Nick's office is too small for all of us," I said taking Arthur's arm. "Perhaps your knights can stay out here?"

"Fine, Z," and he turned and told his knights to obverse as much as they could here while we went to see this detective.  
They thumped their chests and stopped in their tracks.

We went on, around the corner and turned again. And there we were.

"Um, Arthur?" I said, suddenly wondering if I had made a serious error in my suggesting we come here together.

"Yes, light of my life?" he said smiling slightly at me with an eyebrow raised in question.

"Nick is a prototype, one-of-a-kind synth. Just so you aren't surprised once we enter here."

The smile disappeared and his mouth curled down in disgust.

"Another synth? Z, One day I will convince you of the danger they pose to humanity!"

I sighed, "Arthur, just know we are here for information – there is a real evil out there. It must take precedence over an imagined one."

He looked angry and seemed about to retort, but shook his head as if to clear it, "For now, then, I will not betray this thing's trust in you. But I cannot promise I won't come back one day to do what I must."

I frowned and felt my face heating up in anger, "Nick has risked his life a dozen times over to protect me and he is the only reason we were able to find the Institute. Really, Arthur. If he ever malfunctions and turns dangerous, you have my blessing. But that would be the only reason you would ever have to harm Nick Valentine. Besides I claim him under the umbrella of those who enjoy the benefits of the Minutemen's protection. And you signed the treaty." I needed to get Diamond City to fly the double banner of the MM and the BOS.

He grunted in reply. Whatever that meant.

Ellie opened the door, "What on earth is going on out here?" She looked worried, having heard out raised voices, but then she saw me, "Oh! Z!” Then she looked over Arthur with interest, “And who is this tall dark and handsome fella?"  
"Arthur Maxson, at your service, miss," Arthur said with a courteous dip of his head.

Wow. He was polite. I had to say that for this man who had partially captured my heart.

Ellie was won over in an instant. She smiled widely and invited us in.

"Nick! Your partner is here, and she brought a handsome hunk of man with her."

"Is that you Da—oh!" Nick stopped himself from saying Danse's name, but not before Arthur caught on. "And you would be -?"

Arthur dipped his head in a polite bow, "Elder Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel, Mr. Valentine." I was so pleased that he was acting decent, I was kind of stunned and didn't know what to say. So, I said nothing.

Arthur continued, "It has come to my attention that you might be of service in finding some kidnapped Children of Atom, and thus helping the Brotherhood to find this new incarnation of the Enclave."

"Sit, please, and lets chew the fat a bit. I don't know much about this Enclave. I have heard the name, and not in a good way, so tell me more, Elder." Nick shot me a look that said, what on earth have you gotten me into Z? I gave a pained smile and shrugged.

Arthur and I sat in the two chairs set up in front of Nick's battered old desk. He lit a cigarette, and sat down too.

Arthur’s nose wrinkled in distaste, but he went on, "They have cropped up in other parts of the country. We have faced them before. They are a formidable enemy. They desire to rule this country and perhaps the world. Their goal was to wipe out every living thing that had been exposed to radiation long term and only let those who had remained "pure" by living underground or in a vault survive. A so – called 'fresh start' for the world. I assume that this still is their goal. It is, as you can see, in both our best interests to find them. The Brotherhood has been in battle with them before and we will do so again. "

"I have a letter from the Castle, so I know what Brother Maynard's story is. Do you have any idea why they would want to capture some Children of Atom?"

"They, like us, collect and use technology to build the future. But while the Brotherhood rejects the types of technology that might bring mankind to another brink of extinction, such as, forgive my saying so, their creation of synthetic people to repopulate the earth or be slave labor or perhaps simply replace humans, the Enclave has no boundaries in their thirst for anything that would grant them more power. So, I have to ask myself, what power do the Children of Atom possess that would interest the Enclave. Simple, their complete or nearly complete immunity to radiation poisoning."

"My thought as well, Elder. I am no scientist, nor theologian, but do you think they will find what they are looking for?"

"My scribes have scoured through all our data and combed through the texts and terminals. They believe that if these Children of Atom have had their DNA mutate or change somehow there might well be a way to create what they used to call 'test tube' babies and alter these fetus' DNA and so grant them this immunity to radiation. If there is a single definable alteration to this DNA."

"So, that's the motive, obviously. Now to find them. I assume you are going to have your Brotherhood searching for their base?"

Arthur nodded impatiently, "Is there any help you can offer at all?"

Nick took a puff of his cigarette, then mashed it out in the ashtray on his desk. "Yes, Elder, I can. So happens, I have had word of sightings of these vertibirds they use and three sightings of people in black or dark power armor." He turned to his secretary, and said "Hey, Ellie, could you please bring us the wall map, darlin'?"

"Sure, Nick." She carefully pulled out the tacks of a map on the wall and laid it out on the desk in front of them.

It was an ancient, yellowed Rand McNally road map of the northeastern USA. Over the years, it had been marked so many times, you couldn't see the road systems anymore. There were four bright red dots that looked new.  
"This is the vertibird sighting," he pointed to the most northerly mark, "and these three are the power armor sightings," he touched each one. "As you can see, three of the marks fall outside the borders of the Commonwealth and are in the Taconic region. I still have the word out and am expecting more reports back. Take the map. I hope it helps and send someone every week or so for fresh reports of sightings. And if your scribes can manage it, I sure could use another map. This one's seen better days."

"I am sure that can be arranged. Thank you, Mr. Valentine." Arthur carefully rolled up the fragile old map, and stood. "If you don't mind my asking you a question?"  
"Shoot," Valentine tilted his head.

"You feel no pity for your makers? No anger at their destruction?"

Nick gave a bitter laugh, "Not sayin' I'm not glad to be alive or anything, but pity? Anger? No, Elder, not one little bit. You see, they created us, gave us free will, then either used us as slaves or threw us out. We were treated as property. There's enough humanity in us to chaff at that. Z tells me that their SRB used the threat of mind wipes constantly on all the Gen 3s. Not a pleasant thought – a mind wipe.

Now Nick stood, "Wished I could say the pleasure was all mine, but 'fraid I can't, Elder. I hope this information helps you find the Enclave. For the Commonwealth's sake."  
I stood too and we went to the door. "Thanks so much, Nick" I told him.

He nodded his head.

"Oh and Elder Maxson," Arthur turned to face him again.

"Just so you know, I have no love of the gen 2s that are still at large out there either – lose cannons, destroying folks and small settlements for scrap parts – still out there, as far as I know. So I hope your Brotherhood will rid the Commonwealth of those wretched creatures."

"We will." Arthur said flatly. And we left.


	14. Homecoming and Speeches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z is finally released from the Brotherhood, with an Honorable Discharge. Now it's time to come home to The Castle, Danse and Shaun.

Homecoming

The next several days flew by. Arthur had to make up for lost time on the island and was kept very busy. Quinlan's frustration had been assuaged by receiving the tech of the anti-mirelurk frequency emitter. His scribes were already well on their way to building working mirelurk repellers, which Arthur told me his men would deliver and install in all coastline settlements. This should help, he believed, in the recruitment efforts. That and the lure of power armor and the escape from dirt and endless farm labor should bear results that would make even Quinlan smile.

The carefully gridded out searching brought no results whatsoever. Nothing. Valentine had sent us the sites of a few old sitings, spread far apart and nowhere near the first ones. Whoever these people were, they were hidden very, very well. Arthur was frustrated and cross. He widened the search another 200 miles, to no avail. It was if they knew we were looking, and had made themselves disappear from the face of the earth.

Arthur was sure they were underground.

He pushed Quinlan for some kind, any kind of technology that could take images from underneath the earth - through sonic waves or radar or through being able to read heat signatures. Anything that could reveal their hideaway. The scribes were working around the clock, taking short breaks for sleep and nourishment. Quinlan had dark circles under his eyes.  
Arthur seemed angry and desperate in his lovemaking the last few nights.   
He had prepared his heart for battle, once again, and once again there was no battle to be fought.  
Then suddenly, it was April 14th. And midnight was approaching. I would see Danse and Shaun in just a few hours. I knew Arthur felt this distancing of my attention and my emotions.  
I did care for Arthur. And part of me loved him. But next to my feelings for Danse, my affection for him was weak and could never hold me here.   
Right before he walked me to the vertibird awaiting me, he took my shoulders and gazed into my face, seeking perhaps my change of heart, "If you ever...change your mind...if something, anything happens, I will be here, waiting."

He had given me the sword and now custom fitted gleaming black armor I loved, and they were packed in my duffle bag. "Even if I have married another," he said roughly, "you still have me. You will always have me."

I kissed him goodbye. His firm mouth softening under mine, he crushed me to his chest, before he finally released me. I climbed up into the vertibird and looked back at him.  
"Goodbye for now, light of my life," he whispered gruffly, before turning and striding away, but not before I had seen the tears welling in his eyes.

"Fare well, King Arthur," I said softly back, feeling his grief.

Then I was on my way. My heart was in my throat. I was going home.

He was there. In Minuteman regalia, his arm protectively around Shaun's shoulders. He was so very beautiful. His noble brow, thick dark eyebrows over deep brown eyes. His face unshaved for a week or so. He does not like shaving, but he can't stand a full beard either. And Shaun, who looked so much like Nate and I - the best of both of us. My heart was so full at that moment, all my fears melted away that these three months had somehow lessened what we had, had taken from my love of Danse.

Then my thoughts started their incessant chirping at me again, bringing the doubts that had been haunting me since I said yes to Arthur's arrangement, and the fact that I had come to love Arthur in a way.   
I handed my duffle bag to Danse, and then leaped down from the vertibird and I was suddenly there with the two people who meant the most to me in all this world.

Shaun broke my fearful and negative train of thought like shattering a flawed mirror when he launched himself at me and flung himself into my arms. "Mom! You're back! You're finally back!"

Laughter bubbled up out of me and I swung him around before squeezing him tightly. The joy! My own, my child. And my love.

"Yes, son, I am back." I smiled at his unabashed happiness at seeing me.

I put him down, and suddenly Danse was right there in front of me.

He smiled at me and held out his arms, welcoming me home.

I went to Danse and hugged him back fiercely. I was never letting him go again. He lifted my chin with two fingers and gazed into my eyes, seeking my heart. I brought my lips to his. His beard was a little scratchy, his lips full and parted. He tasted so right. I breathed in his breath and kissed him. Shaun and everyone else was watching us, so I kept it tame. Very civilized. He released me, but kept his hands on my shoulders, and examined me from head to toe.

"You look … healthy. Your color is good. Gained some weight. Looks nice, soldier."

"Yes, cushy living on the Prydwen. Not a lot of walking. You look exactly the same as when I saw you last." I breathed. The last time, before all this, we had made desperate love, standing up, me against an elm tree, its bark digging mercilessly into my back. I felt a shiver of desire, remembering his passion.

I heard the vertibird lift off and soar away back to the Prydwen - which was so close, and now, thankfully, so far. I felt a moment’s sorrow for Arthur who would be alone once more.  
"Let's go home." I said. And with that, my time with Elder Arthur Maxson was at an end. Or so I thought at the time. "I want to see one of the chess sets you made, Shaun. And play a game with you tomorrow."  
Shaun beamed at me. "I've sold six now," he told me.  
"Hmmm," I smiled back, "and what are you going to do with all those caps?"  
"Buy more tools and materials, of course," he said, as if to say "well, duh, mom." I chuckled and shook my head. "Of course you will."  
"Think we can find Dogmeat a wife? I sure would love to have a puppy or two." He was still talking puppies, hmm? My eyebrow went up and I shot Danse a look, and he lifted a shoulder in response. (Saying in my unspoken language he knows about the birds and the bees then, eh? and Danse's reply, 'I guess so.")

"I think we can manage that," I said, thinking of how to catch or buy a female German shepherd. I hadn't seen any in my travels. Maybe we'd just make mutts.

In no time, even as excited as he had been, Shaun was tucked in and sprawled bonelessly in his bed, already asleep. He looked so sweet, so angelic. So innocent.

Now, finally, it was just Danse and I.

He was setting up the chess pieces on the board. He and Shaun had their own routines now, I guessed, and felt a touch of jealousy at their closeness. I brushed that foolishness away and watched him. His long dexterous fingers on his elegant hands, his long, muscled torso and powerful shoulders.

"Oh, Danse, I missed you so much. You know, I read your letters so often, they fell apart."

He opened his arms and I went to him. He gently kissed the top of my head, "No more missing ... For either of us. You're home. We are going to take time to settle in." He kissed the same spot again, "We are going to have to depend on the Brotherhood to scout for the Enclave location, as we don't have the manpower or transportation to search for them. That's out of our hands for now. As to the settlements, we have nearly two dozen new recruits from Preston's drive and a dozen ex-brotherhood have joined us, too, so the settlements and the Provisioners have protection and aid. So you and I can take time to regroup."  
I sighed with the feeling that a burden had been lifted from my weary shoulders.

"I know it's after midnight, but can we go to the mess and get some of Annie's leftovers?"

"Well, actually," Danse began, smiling ruefully, "It's not just Annie's leftovers anymore…"

Over a cold meal of some amazing bread with a tasty spread like herbed butter with something else very satisfying and kind of sweet and tart at the same time...and cold herbed slices of slow roasted brahmin, which were sliced almost paper thin and were utterly delectable, Danse went on to explain an interesting new development at The Castle.

Annie Drake, one of the smartest women I have ever met, had made the cooking into a competition.  
It all started with these tarberry flapjacks that were amazing.

Danse told me she had recruited her own cooking team, Harold Thurman and Terri Ranier, and the trio kept coming up with these great recipes -which they wouldn’t share.

Smiling, Danse informed me that this keeping her recipes secret had made Fannie Popczeck furious, so in retaliation she started her own team, and thus the cooking competition began. He explained how this all worked. There were rules, you see. Castle residents were asked to drop a number of straws (real straw from the razorgrain stalks) into a large pot after their meals. One straw for barely edible, 10 straws for "it's-to-die-for-delicious". The results were posted publicly on a piece of slate propped up in the communal dining hall.

Danse was shaking his head but smiling when he told me, "Ernst Soweto keeps the official annals of the Castle Cook Off Competition in a ledger which keeps a running total for the teams, of which there are - believe it or not - five now. Knowing Annie, I am pretty sure she did it on purpose - to stir up morale and keep our people using their creativity and imaginations."

I shook my head, but was definitely enjoying the fruits of their competition.

We had both finished our midnight meal. The stars were so bright tonight. The air of freedom was so refreshing. I was home.

The time had come. I took hold of Danse's hands across the table. There was no use putting it off anyway. I had to tell him and sooner was better than later. I was so very tired of secrets.

"It's good that we have some downtime, now, because I have to be careful for a while. I'm carrying a child."

"You...what? You're... you are saying that you're pregnant? A baby? A baby is coming?"

He seemed to be getting the idea. I smiled at his sweet reaction.

I looked deeply into him, trying desperately to read what was in those eyes.

He looked back at me with wonder and a growing smile. I had been right. There was no bitterness or jealousy there.

Now I had to hit him hard with what I had been thinking so much these last few weeks. The possibility I was going to bring up was a tease and a bit of a torture too.

"Danse, do you think it's possible that you can make babies?" Boy that came out subtle. Way to go, Z.

He went from pleased to bewildered, "How could I? You know as well as I that synths are sterile."

"It's just that, I seem to be farther along than I should be if it is Arthur's child. And we know that you and Shaun diverge from the gen 3s model. I guess you are Gen 4s. When I was inside the Institute, I overheard two conversations about the folly of Shaun's child synth project. How this poor synth would be trapped in a boy's body forever. But that boy who jumped into my arms today was bigger than the one I left. And you, Shaun said he dropped you into the Capital Wasteland to see how you fared. You both start out as children ... but you grew up, Danse. You're maturing normally. The scientists I met didn't even know about you. X6-88 told me he had no idea you were a synth. He was surprised. Coursers aren't surprised, Danse.

So you see, making assumptions about being sterile like all the other synths may well be counterintuitive." I had been bottling these thoughts up since I began to suspect I was pregnant.

"I would ... I would absolutely love for that to be true. If it were only... If it could be ... Z." He paused, squeezed my hands. Then he sighed, deeply, "It doesn't really matter in the end, does it? We will raise our children together. We are their parents in all the ways that it counts."

I stood and so did he. I went to him and he held me. We stayed like that for several long moments.

He wasn't really thinking about the ramifications.

I had thought about this a lot.

Because if it were true, if Danse, and more than likely, Shaun too, weren't sterile, Shaun, my son, had accomplished his redefinition of mankind. The part that was even harder to swallow, was that my son had put himself in the role of Adam - the first man; Danse and Shaun were made up from his DNA, and me, his mother in the role of Eve. The mother of this new type of human, who would, in time, grow in number from these modest beginnings.

Got ego, anyone?

There were too many in the Commonwealth, especially the Brotherhood, and probably this Enclave too, who would see synths who could procreate as the ultimate evil, an insidious attack on humanity itself, and the three people I loved most in the world in dire need of extermination.

My son was still manipulating me from the grave, after all.

He had hoped I would meet and fall in love with Paladin Danse. I was awakened from cryo after Danse had entered the Commonwealth and we were of a similar age. And I did. I fell in love with him right from the start.

He had made a child version of himself and set him out as bait for me. Making sure I would pursue and eventually find him. And getting rid of his embarrassment of an assassin, Kellogg. Two birds with one stone.  
He knew that once I loved them, I would protect them. Thus ensuring their survival, which was his long term goal realized.

I was as predictable as the sun rise.

And I couldn't change. I would protect them with everything I had within the realm of the possible.

So, I had decided when I had thought this through on my weeks of being held as unwilling consort to the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, no one can know. It must be a closely guarded secret.  
If it were true, which I was beginning to feel fairly sure of.

And to keep it secret, everyone would have to believe that this child had become the one with a soul forged from eternal steel, the last of the line, the heir of the Maxson's, the founders of the Order of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Shaun couldn't have predicted that. Or could he?  
_____________________________________________

We walked the grounds, under the moonlight and stars, Danse pointing out some of the changes that had been made. I shook my head in appreciation. Danse had everything arranged to not only be safe, but ascetically pleasing to the eye.  
There was a protected rest area for the caravaners and other visitors as well as extra sleeping quarters for anyone who needed to stay overnight or longer. He pointed out the laser turrets and tesla traps set up for every vulnerable spot.  
At last, when he gave such a great yawn it looked like his jaws would unhinge, I gave his hand a tug and said, "Time to hit the hay, Paladin."  
He smiled crookedly at me and I knew he knew that he didn't know the colloquialism, but he got the idea.  
"Ready if you are, soldier."  
"I am, Danse. I still can't believe I'm home."  
We went in, checked on a sleeping Shaun, who was laying sideways on his bed now, with his blanked puddled on the floor. I picked it up, shook it out and covered him up. Danse watched me with a smile.  
We went upstairs, and undressed. He handed me a night shirt. My eyebrows climbed and he shrugged. "Shaun runs up here, first thing when he wakes," he explained.  
I chuckled at the image and put on mine while Danse donned an identical one.  
I feel asleep, my head on his chest, his arm encircling me.  
Sure enough, just as the sun rays crossed our bed, so did Shaun.  
"Good morning Mom! Morning, Dad!" he greeted us cheerfully. "I saw a caravan coming. I am going to go down and say hi, okay?"  
"Sure, son, we'll be down in a bit," Danse answered sleepily, "Stay inside the walls, you hear me?"  
"Yes, Dad, it's not like I don't know I'm not allowed out without you." Shaun said with a just a tiny touch of impatience.  
So, now, we were alone, in bed, just Danse and me and a couple of nightshirts between us. My hand ruffled through his chest hair and then strayed lower. I looked at the interesting shape of a mini-tent in the middle of our sheet.

"Is it safe? For the baby, I mean," Danse whispered in my hair.

"Of course, the baby is in the safest place in the world right now. It's only after she is out that I'll start fretting."

"She?" he asked, stroking my hip, and my rear in large circles.

"Just a feeling I have," I sighed, as I arched toward him.

His agile, long fingers began touching where I really wanted him to and I moaned with delight. I turned my face up, and slowly kissed his chin, then his cheek, then his eyes, and then finally, tasted his mouth. He felt and tasted so right to me. He returned my kiss with gentleness but that became more fevered as my hand began to stroke him.

It wasn't long before I was more than ready, so I turned on my side, my rear up against his hardness and guided him into me.

"I love you so much," I whispered, as my body responded to him, my Danse, my love in our joining.

“And I love you, Z" he groaned out as his release came powerfully.

We lay not moving, not wanting our oneness to be broken for just a little while longer.

Outside, The Castle was coming to life around us. Voices called, brahmins lowed, Dogmeat barked and I swear I heard a cat.  
"We should get up," I sighed.  
"Not yet," said Danse, "We deserve to have this time, you and I. I am not ready to end this yet. I will not have you to myself until tonight again. There are a lot of people who want to see and talk to you."  
And so, we stayed in bed.  
Finally, my stomach, as always, decided it was overdue for some food and rumbled noisily.  
"Do you want me to bring you something? You could just wait right here for me," Danse suggested.  
"No, no, it's time to face the music. I did miss everyone, after all. Let's go see what the cooking team leftovers are this time."  
Preston Garvey caught me first, sporting a huge grin and sparkling eyes. "Welcome home, Z," he said warmly.

I hugged him tightly, and tried not to cry. "Thanks, Preston, it's good to be back."

Then I saw someone that shouldn't be here. I blinked and looked again, thinking I had been mistaken in my initial identification. But I wasn't.

"Haylen!" I couldn't believe my eyes! She was here? At The Castle?

Danse was smiling broadly. He hadn't told me, the rascal!

"Z!" Haylen laughed and ran to me. We hugged each other enthusiastically, whooping with happiness, sounding like two little girls.

Then Haylen stepped back and looked suddenly very serious. "Oh Z, we tried to stop Landers. I am so sorry. So, so sorry. But you should have seen Rhys! He always obeys orders without question, but not this time! I was sure he and Landers were going to end up in a fist fight!"

I shuddered at the memory, especially since I suspected Danse and I had conceived this child already and how he could have killed this little helpless one with his ugly brutality.

"We both decided to contact the Elder. We were sure Landers wasn't acting on his orders," Haylen continued. "Rhys kept saying as how you took down the Institute and were a hero. And in my book too you are, Z. As to Landers, he is now in the cell you were in. Awaiting trial."

"Good," I said softly. But I wasn't thinking about Landers, I was thinking about the huge nuclear explosion and the Institute's people. The destruction still left me feeling hollow. I had given orders for as many people and synths who came to the relay chamber to be teleported out, but Sturges never told me how many came to him.

"Do you guys know how many Institute people were found and how many have come to live in the settlements?" I asked swallowing hard, afraid of the answer I would hear.  
Danse answered my question, "Sixteen, Z. But that includes all the children that lived there, according to what they told us. They have been welcomed warmly and accepted into the communities. They were pretty shaken up, but they're settling in."  
"That's one of the new systems we've got set up now. We also have ham radios in almost every settlement, as well as Franklin on Radio Freedom. We're still looking for a few more radios for the last few who don't have them. Franklin did an all-call and asked everyone to look for the Institute refugees and to help them. And we have couriers now. Not exactly as fast as a vertibird, but each community has a runner, and they pass along the private messages or letters to a new runner, so it actually is pretty efficient."  
"Wow! I can't tell you how relieved that makes me. And you've invented the Commonwealth Mail System now. Wow," I shook my head, "That is good, good news." And then I turned back to my friend.  
"So, Haylen! Haylen, I still can't believe I'm really seeing you. I am so glad you are here! I have missed you."  
She grinned at me, "I missed you too, Z. You know, I was already having some serious doubts about my vocation to the Brotherhood. I love Rhys, but I think the incident with Landers and Elder Maxson forcing you to stay with him against your will, were the straws that broke the camel's back so to speak. And Danse and you were the only other ones I really truly cared about. And you are both here. So, it's where I belong too."  
"Maybe you could help me on an important mission," I said, frowning slightly.

"Of course!" she replied, instantly alert and serious, "What mission?"

"To find a Mrs. Dogmeat and make little Dogmeats."

She burst out laughing. "I think that could be possible, of course some of it depends on Dogmeat himself, you know. I could draw up plans for a dog-catching trap, if one of your … people who build could make it."  
"Maybe Franklin can put an all-call out to everyone, telling them to look for she-dogs. Especially of the German Shepherd variety."

"That's what Dogmeat is?" Shaun had suddenly reappeared with the fleetness of foot that young boys have. And speak of the devil, Dogmeat was right next to him.

"Hey, buddy, how are you doing?" I reached down and scratched him behind his ears, then bent down and gave him a whole body hug. "I missed you too Dogmeat. So what do you say, buddy, you want a wife? Will you still love me?" I rubbed his belly and scratched his rump, then stood back up.

"Yes, he sure looks like a German Shepherd," I laughed, "Where'd you come from?"

"Cricket is here and she was telling me about this amazing gun she has, and how she's seen it blow off the head of a Mirelurk King. Ka-blooie! Blam! In one shot!"

I almost rolled my eyes, but stopped. Kablooie Blam. Indeed.

"Well, we were just going to brunch, you want to join us?" I asked the boy.

"No, thank you. Already ate a while ago. I bought some materials from Cricket and I am going to get some help to get them to my work bench."

And with that, he dashed off, calling back over his shoulder, "See you!"

This was going to take some getting used to! An instant 10 year old son. What an amazing child. And, he was mine.

Then I thought about Cricket and the others. I still had to confront each and every caravaner about them taking pay from the Institute as spies and informants.

The leftovers were amazing. A variation of the tarberry flapjacks, more like crepes than pancakes. A fruit syrup with just the right balance of sweetness and tartness and some kind of sausages that were mouthwatering and spiced just right. I was going to like this Castle Cook Off. Shoot, I might even enter Danse, Shaun and I for a few meals.  
As we left the area set up as the mess hall, I saw another face I knew and liked. I hadn't thought much about Dan Clarke since I had been taken by Arthur from Cambridge and Danse had let me know he had taken him with him to the Castle.

"Hey Clarke!" I called out. He grinned and trotted over.

"Hi Sir!" he greeted Danse, then faced me, with a huge smile, "Z, everyone's been waiting for this day! I have to tell you, this place is great! Ghouls here are accepted as humans and everyone works side by side. This is what I have been waiting for. This is what is should be like. I can't thank you and Danse enough for getting me here. I'm still making a difference in this world, but it's the kind of difference I want to be making - I don't have to compromise what I know to be right." He shrugged, "Just wanted you to know that."

"Thanks, Clarke. I'm glad you're here, too" I smiled, "Are you going to be able to contact your family and let them know you're okay? Unfortunately, the Brotherhood still considers you and the others to be deserters and are facing charges if found, so we have to be careful."

"I assumed that was the case," he said grimacing a bit, "as to contacting my people, there are merchants out of Goodneighbor that travel to the Capital Wasteland that will carry letters and such. So I am definitely going to write to my family. Thanks for asking, Z."

"I'll see you around then, Clarke."

I took Danse's arm and took him aside. "We need to catch Cricket while she's still here," I frowned, "I'll go get her, if you could please get Preston? Bring him to the General's quarters."

 

Cricket couldn't sit still. Her hands were shaking ever so slightly. She was rubbing her hands together, then rubbing her shoulders and arms. The after-effects of whatever chem she favored, I thought.  
Danse was sitting to my right, Preston to my left.

"What's this about, anyway, Z? I've got places to go and people to see." She sounded shrewish: her voice was high pitched and unpleasant to the ear. She was frowning, and she started tapping the tabletop with her bitten fingernails in a nervous staccato.

I held myself very still perhaps in counterpoint to her agitation. I looked directly into her eyes, which were shifting from me, to Preston, to Danse, to the ground, and then started all over again.  
"I know you were taking caps from the Institute to be eyes and ears on the surface. I know you were supposed to be on the lookout for synths trying to escape."  
She snarled, "I don't have to put up with this", and started to stand up.

Danse stood so quickly it was a blur, and went to her. He pushed her back down forcibly, hands on her shoulders.

"You will sit and listen," he said with quiet menace. His face was stern with simmering anger just under the surface.

She went from irritated to frightened in an instant.

Danse stayed where he was, behind her, ready to stop her if she tried to flee.

"So, what's it to you anyway?" she sneered, trying to cover up her fear with false bravado. "They're just synths. Everyone in the Commonwealth hates them anyway. Good riddance, right? Am I right? I didn't ever give them information about you guys or nothin'. And they're fucking gone now - so what's the big deal?"

"Spying for the Institute is a 'big deal', Cricket. I have synths who are my friends. You've heard rumors of the Railroad, right? How would you like it if I just turned you over to them?"  
She blanched, and opened and closed her mouth three times before she just clamped her jaw shut and just glared at me.

I stared back, unflinching.

She lowered her eyes and started her fidgeting again.

"Cricket, the Institute killed my husband, kidnapped my child and were experimenting on and murdering Commonwealth men and women. You were spying for the enemy. What would you do, in my place, eh?" My voice was deathly calm.

Her eyes got round, and started to tear up. "Z, don't kill me. Please, don't. I am sorry, it's just that we are struggling just to survive out here and we all take caps where we can get them."

"What's to stop you from taking caps from gunners then or a new enemy? Or anyone at all who has a few caps to throw your way, Cricket?"

"I won't, I promise. I won't. Just please, please let me go." A big, fat tear rolled down her cheek. It looked yellowish, instead of clear.

"Are you making enough caps now that there are so many settlements and everyone is buying?"

She looked bewildered at my question for a moment, then nodded, dumbly.

"Cricket, The promise of a person who sells out to their friends’ enemies isn't worth anything to me. But I am counting on your understanding that if you even think about selling out the Commonwealth again, or synths just trying to stay alive, I will kill you. No second chances, no talking. You will just not be here anymore. Do you understand me?"

She was weeping now, tears leaking steadily from her reddened eyes, and looking at each of us, looking for any sign that we were bluffing. Whatever she saw, helped her make up her mind quickly.

"I understand," she said in a harsh whisper.

"And, if anyone approaches you and wants to hire you as a spy, you will inform me immediately. I'll be sure to give you caps to make it worth your while, if the information is good."

"I will," she brusquely wiped her nose which was running freely now.

"Oh, and Cricket," I said, standing, "let the others know. All of them, at Bunker Hill, Carla, Lucas and the others."

"Okay, okay," she said softly, then leapt up, as if she couldn't believe we were just going to let her go.

"Go on, get out of here." I turned and walked away without looking back.

Preston remained seated, looking rather stunned. He hadn’t known any of this.

Danse waited until she had left, running back to her pack Brahmin and her guards. A few barked orders from Cricket and they left the Castle and headed down the road. Cricket cast several nervous looks behind her, as if unbelieving that no one was going to change their mind and come after her.

"You were very convincing," he smiled, shaking his head at me.

"That's because I meant every word. She would sell Shaun or you or this baby to the highest bidder. But she will also likely be approached by the new enemy for information - because of her greed." I smiled sadly, "and if she's reporting to me, we could get some clues as to where they they're hiding or hints about their motives our interests."

"A few clues would be good," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I hope this bears fruit. If she's offered protection as well as a large enough sum, this could back fire on us, you know."  
I sighed and was about to reply when Shaun came bounding up to us, out of breath.

"Mom! Dad! Franklin got a radio message. Outpost Zimoja has dogs! They're pretty sure there's a female Germsan Shepert!"

"Ger-man shepherd, sweetie, Germany is a country in Europe, and shepherd is a shortening of the word sheep herder, I think."

"Okay, a German Shepherd, then," he pronounced the words very carefully, "but can we go? With Haylen? And get Dogmeat his wife? And what's a sheep? Hey, can we go to Germany one day and bring Dogmeat? And my puppy?"

"Whoa there, whoa, young man. One thing at a time! What do you think, 'Dad'?" I asked Danse, smiling.

"Hmmm," he frowned thoughtfully, looking at Shaun who was holding his breath and looking hopefully at him. He winked at me, and then said after a very long pause, "I suppose we could all make the trip to the Outpost. What do you say, Z?"

"Sounds like fun," I said.

Shaun whooped with delight and turned to Dogmeat, who obviously enjoyed following this boy around. He was more interesting than the rest of us, after all, and gave the dog a long hug.  
"I hope you're ready to get married, Dogmeat," Shaun said into the dog's thick ruff.

"Oh, I think he'll warm up to the idea," I said smiling at the duo.

Danse slipped his hand around my waist, and pulled me close.

_  
As Danse was preparing us for our trek to Zimoja, I visited with Curie.

Curie was a Miss Nanny robot. How she came into my life is a bit complicated, but it had all started with a lost cat named Ashes and a jet addict.

I had stumbled upon a vault, number 81, which had the ancestors of the original inhabitants still living there.

There seemed to be no weird experiment that had been carried out on its residents. Was that even possible?

At any rate, they had let me in. Giving them three fusion cores which they desperately needed certainly helped. At the time I was still in my vault suit and wearing a pip boy which peaked their curiosity. They didn't know of any other vault survivors in the Commonwealth.

When I had entered, a little grey cat had run past me. This little rascal was named Ashes. It turned out it was a little girl named Erin's kitty. I couldn't resist her pleas for help finding her cat. After all, it had been my entrance into the vault that had allowed the cat to escape into the Commonwealth.

I brought the cat back. He hadn't strayed too far and I had won Erin's eternal gratitude and a warmer acceptance at my visiting the vault.

I must have inspired respect and admiration in some way, though, as several people weren't shy about asking for my help. I did what I could for them, although I was anxious to continue my journey to Diamond City to look for my son. But I was tired, too. And I needed a bit of respite from walking across the Commonwealth and the constant fear of attack. I had not built up my strength and stamina at that point in my journeying.

To make a very complex story shorter, a young man, Bobby DeLuca, a jet addict, had found a hidden entrance to a completely unknown area of the vault. Here he hid his drugs and his drug use from all. Especially his sister, Tina. She had asked for my help in trying to convince her little brother to get help. I did. It wasn't that hard. I gave him the pros and cons of jet addiction. I told him I had already spoken with Rachel, their physician, who was ready with the drug that would help free him from his addiction. I tried to be patient with him, but I just couldn't. Of all the real problems facing me, escaping from reality with drug use was something I had no tolerance or understanding for. I was a bit rough on him, but I guess that's what he must've needed as he agreed he needed help.

He went to Rachel and I went into his quarter and gathered up every jet inhaler I could find. I would either destroy them later or sell them if I was desperate for caps.

Rachel started him on the regimen of a rare drug, Addictol, that helps to break dependency on alcohol or drugs like jet.

Then, Erin's friend Austin Engill, got sick. It seems he followed Bobby and was delighted as any boy would be, with this discovery of a secret place.

Something had bitten him and now he was dying. His grandmother begged me for help; to explore the new area of the vault and see if there was anything at all that could save her Austin.  
I thought of my own son, and how on earth could I refuse? So I went.

What I discovered, after being bitten myself numerous times by disgusting mole rats, was that this vault hadn't been free of the goal of experimentation as it first seemed. The numerous terminals and files I looked at in looking for some clue as how to help Austin live painted a grim story.

The Vault had a secret side set up to spy on the resident's area. It had mist dispensers set to infect the vault dwellers with various plagues, especially the mole rate disease they had cultivated. If it hadn't been for the heroic overseer, Dr. Olivette, things would have been very different for these people. Their ancestors probably would all be dead and so they never would have even existed.  
She cut off this side's access to the resident's portion of the vault. Trapping the scientists inside. One by one, they died.

One doctor, who was still seeking to find a cure for the hideous mole rate disease was desperate for help so he modified the Miss Nanny robot who was there as a simple helpmate into his science partner. He spent countless hours programming in elements of his favorite scientists and philosophers and created the Contagious Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer or CURIE, who of course was programmed with elements of Marie Curie, the famous physicist and chemist and who pioneered the study of radiation. He also modeled her after an old flame of hers. She spoke with a strong French accent, which was utterly feminine and very pleasing to the ear. She had also developed beyond what any Miss Nanny should have been able to do. She had developed a growing intelligence complete with a burning curiosity and personality.  
She was enough of a robot, though, that she did not allow herself to leave her lab even though she had created the cure she had been commanded to find. She needed the overseer's approval to let her out.  
She had been alone for a century. Waiting. She had found the long searched for cure in 2204.

So, of course, I let her out.

Unfortunately, there was only one dose of the cure. She did not have the necessary materials to create another one.

We delivered the serum to Rachel and Austin and it worked almost instantaneously. I knew I was infected, but whether it was because I from another time or some other reason, I didn't get deathly ill. Just felt weak and sick for a few days.

I took Curie with me when I was well enough to travel again. She wanted to get out of the vault altogether after having been trapped there for so long.  
I had left her with Codsworth in Sanctuary, until I had moved to the Castle. Then both she and Codsworth moved there, permanently.

We would be passing close enough to Goodneighbor that we could make a stop there, and see Dr. Amari. Curie had expressed the very strong desire for a human body and brain to escape the limitations imposed on her by her robotic form. As much as Dr. Collins had modified her, and as much as she had developed free thinking and free will, her robot form had limits, which she chafed at. Dr. Amari could transfer memories or erase and create new ones for synths, perhaps she could help Curie.

And we could also pass through Diamond City as well and order shipments of materials.

You don't waste a walk of this length.

I try to get as much done as humanly possible – because there's nothing like finally coming to the end of a two week journey on foot to find that someone really needed a shipment of wood from Abernathy farm, melons from Finch farm, or circuitry or gears for building generators and turrets.

So, I was making plans to do as much as we could on this search for Mrs. Dogmeat.

I found Curie where Danse and his men had set up a modest laboratory, and she was busy concocting something.

"Curie," I said, "I need to talk with you."

"But of course, mon cher, what can I do for you?" A Miss Nanny robot has three eyes on articulated stalks and she had two arms with a vice and a saw. She was painted with a sturdy white enamel that had held up well. She had no legs, but floated from a jet booster, which was aflame.

"I want you to come with us, "I smiled, "I would like you to meet a woman named Dr. Amari who may be able to help you find a synth body. If anyone can do it, it would be her."  
"Oh! Oh! That would be the delight of my heart!" Curie exclaimed, "Do you really think zis could be possible?"

"Honestly, I have no idea, Curie," I said frowning slightly, "but there's no sense in not trying. The worst thing that could happen is no change."

"I am ready, Z." If she had a face, she would have been grinning, I'm sure.

"I have a question, Curie, an important one."

"What is it mon cher? Anything I can do for you, I will, you must know zis is true."  
"Is it possible to create a DNA sample? From two people – so that if someone were trying to establish paternity, you could produce a sample that would show it?"

"Mon ami, it is amusing that you ask me zis now. I have just finished scanning some old articles from a science journal that wrote about zee very subject! Before the bomb, criminals and how you say – crooked cops? had learned to create fake DNA samples to plant at crime scenes. Zee articles wrote also about falsifying paternity tests too. So yes, eet is possible. And I could do eet."

"What would you need?"

"Ummm, I would need hair samples or saliva samples from the supposed parents. It would be good if the hair was pulled, not cut, and had its root intact. I would also need some decent equipment and supplies."  
"Would you do this for me, and would you keep it secret forever?"

"For you, Z, I would do anything, you know this. You would not be asking if it were for an evil purpose. I will make a list of everything I would need, yes?"

"Yes, and thank you, my friend," I said, gratefully.

I just had to yank out a few hairs from Arthur's chest or head or wherever. Hmm. I would think on that one.

Before we left on this journey, I had to speak to the Minutemen posted here. Preston insisted. I listened, because Preston was good at this type of thing and I, right now, was not thinking strategically. I was just happy to be back with Danse and Shaun.

Franklin had set up a wired microphone so he could send my talk across the Commonwealth.

After dinner at the mess hall, Preston rang the large mess bell. Franklin handed the live microphone to Preston.

"My dear friends and Minutemen, our General is back with us, safe at last. You know she was the one who got us into the Institute, and the one who gave us the victory. She has also just made a treaty between the Brotherhood of Steel and us, which ensures peace for the Commonwealth at last. We no longer have to worry about loved ones disappearing or whether the Institute would replace one of ours with a synth. So, as she is off tomorrow on a journey, she wanted to have a few words with you all."

As a lawyer, giving speeches is par for the course. It is up my alley, so to speak. But I had not prepared anything, and I just winged it. Which as a good lawyer, I never did!

"Minutemen and Commonwealth residents," I said with strength in my voice, although I didn't feel strong at all right now, "We have peace. But peace is always fragile and must be nourished and cherished. Some of you have taken in Institute refugees in and cared for them. This is the spirit we will need to flourish. The time of distrust and plots needs to come to an end. And the end of this distrust, and thus the beginning of a new era of peace, starts with you. Each individual. Everyone in the Commonwealth needs to shed their prejudices and their anger. There are synths among us, too. Most of you know Danse, as he has visited almost all of you. He is a synth. But his loyalties are to you and to me. There are others out there, and since the Institute is gone and these beings have free will, I would hope that, like the men and women and children of the Institute you have taken in, you will also be open to these men and women who are also synths. So, I would beg of you, as your General and as one of you, that you do not attack, unless attacked and do not automatically assume the gen 3 synths are out to replace anyone or cause mischief. They will be as lost as the survivors you have taken in. A little kindness goes a long way and should be the theme of this new peace.  
All of you have suffered greatly. Most of you have lost loved ones. But it is time to look to a better tomorrow, and not hang onto the past in bitterness. We must have each other's backs and take on each other's burdens. That includes synths and the many ghouls that have chosen to join with us.  
And for those of you out there listening to this broadcast who have not joined with us or made up your minds – think about what the end goals are for us. A safe and prosperous Commonwealth. Living beyond mere survival. Finding and keeping new friends and starting families. Look at your other choices and ask yourself, what will they bring?  
We will take back the Commonwealth, one square mile at a time. I would ask each community to begin to expand its borders, and invite more wanderers in.  
We do not have safety yet, my friends, but it is safer and growing safer as each month passes.  
I thank each settlement for signing the treaty between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen. Soon, flying the colors of both will be enough to keep raiders and others away.  
Peace be with you, my friends, and I pray you keep the peace – as ultimately it rests in your hands."  
I handed the microphone to Franklin and went to Danse, who was waiting close by. One Castle resident started clapping. It was eerie in the silence. They another person joined in. Then a few more. And then it was most of them. They stood as I passed, embarrassed by the fuss.

Shaun came running to me and threw his arms around me.

"I love you, Mom! That was perfect!"

Danse held both of us and smiled at him, "I think so too, son."

I yawned sleepily and Danse suggested we go to bed early and leave at dawn. He assured me everything was packed and ready to go.

I was more than happy to acquiesce.


	15. Treasures of Jamaica Plains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travelling the Commonwealth

As glad as I was to be home again, I was also delighted to be travelling again. I had too much energy to just hang out in one place and I had had quite enough of that on the Prydwen and even on Spectacle Island, and partially because this time it wasn't on an urgent mission, where delay could cost lives or time was of essence.

So it wasn’t a full week of being back at The Castle, before I left again. 

We were travelling at a more gentle and leisurely pace, for Shaun's sake and mine, too. I was getting fatigued more easily now, so this pace suited me just fine. As we left the Castle, we traveled along the road with water on both sides. No mirelurks came this close to The Castle anymore, they had enough survival sense for that.

With us were Curie, Haylen, Dan Clarke, Ron Rosner, Luke Forsythe and Annie, who was happy to take a break from the Cook Off and be our traveling cook. And of course, Shaun, Danse, Dogmeat and I. This time I took the time to really see the Commonwealth. It was alive. There were saplings and wild edibles and although the bombs had seemed to nearly do away with the seasons, they were coming back. There were leaves on the trees, and they were green. I thought for a moment about Shaun and the others who lived underground their entire lives. They thought above ground was just horrible and irredeemably nasty. It really wasn't. It was surviving, just like us and it was healing, just like us.

We were heading a bit southeast before beginning our northward journey, as Jamaica Plains was the closest settlement and fairly close to Goodneighbor too.

Jamaica Plains is a small city settlement, so there are a few crops and a few wells and pumps, but enough to sustain the residents and just a touch more left over for trade. What they were getting a reputation for was their metal work. They had two blacksmiths, a rare commodity. The community was thriving. They had an armorer too who could work on power armor or any other kind. If you didn't have a Proctor Ingram, this was the best you could get in the Commonwealth. And Lyle was getting better and learning as he went as well, so soon he may well be better than Ingram.

So we were going to spend a bit of time there, because Dan and Luke wanted some work done on their armor. Danse was going to have Lyle work his magic on some sticky joints on his power armor too.  
It was only a two hour hike.

"Wh-what are those tnings?!" Shaun gasped out as Danse and the others took care of a few mirelurks that came out of the water quickly and came at us.

Shaun and I were as protected as one can get here. Annie Drake too. She was no fighter, she insisted, she was a cook. Danse had asked me very nicely to go against my instincts to fight and stay with and protect our son while he did the fighting. I smiled at the way he had said it, as if I would mind.

"Those are mirelurks," I explained calmly, as Danse and the others made short work out of dispatching them. "See their carapaces? They are so hard, they are almost impervious. If you can't get to their tender undersides or their heads, they are nearly invincible."

"Has anyone made armor out of their shells?" He was always thinking about making things.

Danse was right, he did have more than his normal share of intelligence. I wonder what other goodies my son had placed in his child replacement. I would have added an eidetic memory – I have a good memory, exceedingly good, but it was still human.

"No one has figured out a good way to cut it in a good enough way to work with it," I said as I watched Danse getting our dinner from the mirelurks. There had been only three.

For the rest of the journey, we only saw a few stingwings, and Ron used his newfangled crossbow in some of the most excellent shooting I have ever witnessed to create stingwing kabob without having to do any prep.

Shaun was wide-eyed taking in everything. He had seen a few things on our trek from above the CIT ruins to The Castle, but these creatures were new to him.

He ended up liking roasted mirelurk. Annie could make anything taste good.

We arrived with little fanfare at Jamaica Plains where there were now 17 people living. Unlike others, I don't differentiate between ghouls and humans, because ghouls are humans – just irradiated humans. So, yes, there were several ghouls there too. These were nothing new for Shaun as there were several ghouls who lived at The Castle as well. He would grow up seeing ghouls and synths treated as equals and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Which brought to mind that I was going to have to tell him. The Institute survivors knew what he was and secrets this big don't stay hidden. He needed to hear it from me before someone slipped or he overheard someone talking about him.

Soon, I thought, it had to be soon. I would bring it up at the first convenient time when I, and Danse too, I decided, had him to ourselves. Tonight. I should not put it off any longer.

We donated the rest of our fresh meat to the community and went about our business. Danse's power armor took pride of place with the armorer, then Dan’s and Luke's jobs. He had set aside all his other orders for us.

I went and spoke with Harold Wynnmore, the elected leader of this settlement. Yes, they actually held elections. Give people enough time and peace, and they will get around to making governance. It's a very natural human need. The strongest and or the smartest, hopefully a combination of the two in times such as these.

"Harold," I said, shaking his hand and smiling, "Looks pretty good around here! You have had the old house fixed up! No more holes in the roof?" I asked, wondering where he was going to put us up for the night.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone who looked really familiar. It was the way he walked that I recognized, more than his face, which was bearded and bore dark sunglasses. I knew this person, and not from here. But Harold's booming voice brought my attention back to him.

He laughed, "You'll find nary a leak here, madam General.” Then his look became serious, “We all listened to your radio address last night. I have to tell you, Z, you are asking a lot when you ask people to start trusting synths."

I shrugged, "I know. It's been generations' worth of distrust and it won't happen overnight or quickly. But if a few communities take in some synths and it works, well, it can change attitudes, slowly, anyway."  
I glanced around for the person who I knew but did not know, and there was no trace of him. Anywhere.

"If you find any that need shelter, send them to me," he said gruffly, "I'm willing to give it a try. I didn't know Danse was a synth, and he has helped us more than once."

"Thanks, Harold, that means more to me than you could ever know," I felt tears coming. Darn pregnancy. I had forgotten about the exaggerated emotions I experienced last time. For heaven's sake I had cried over Nuka Cola commercials.

 

He responded by taking me into a bear hug, and he is built like a bear. He is one of the ones that is smart and strong.  
I wiped my eyes and changed the subject. We chatted about various improvements he had made and how his community was becoming the go-to place for armor and weaponry that required a blacksmith. He knew how fortunate he was to have them, because they used their profits to help build up the settlement freely. It seemed they had decided their good fortune was the settlement's good fortune – it was a much nicer place to live for them too, after all.

Harold showed me the new armory and blacksmith workshop and residence they were all building for Lyle and Carl and Lynda the blacksmiths. It was amazing. Wrought iron railings and fine woodwork was going to make this a treasure of Jamaica Plains.

I forgot about the man I had seen that had piqued my curiosity and my sure knowledge that he was more than just a settler.

Danse had taken Shaun on his usual tour and review of the defenses and we met back up for dinner. There was no cafeteria or mess hall – everyone cooked and ate at their own homes, but Howard had invited us into his home for dinner. He had had the third floor vacated for us. It was a little cramped and most of us would have to sleep on the floor, but it was dry and it was safe. 

Howard had a woman! She was petite, dark haired and she had lovely, big, dark eyes and was very soft spoken. He introduced us with him beaming with pride at his catch, I suppose. Her name was Lydia. If she was over 5 feet tall, I’d be very surprised. I caught her looking at him with open adoration a few times. She was the very opposite of Harold, who was red haired, auburn bearded, blue-eyed, 6’3” and built, like I said, like a bear. They were adorable together. 

I wondered who married people around here – the only pastor I knew was the one in Diamond City. Surely military law would allow me to marry folks, wouldn't it? I would have to ask Preston.  
Night came quickly. Haylen and Shaun were playing chess on the floor with Clarke watching. He said he wanted to learn how to play, so Shaun had promised he would. He was talking through every move he made, to show how Clarke it worked. 

Ron and Luke were hanging out with the armorer and the blacksmiths.

I asked Danse to talk a walk with me. When I had found a place where no one was likely to overhear us, I turned to him, holding his hands tightly, "We have to talk to Shaun," I said softly, "before he finds out he is a synth some other way." Darn, my eyes were tearing up again.

He frowned deeply and then, let go of my hands to scrub his face. It was too soon for him to forget the horrible pain and shock of finding out that he was a “made” human. I could see the pain in his face. He loved this boy and did not want him to have to go through what he had.

"As much as it pains me, I have to agree," he said. "Someone is going to slip up or someone who means mischief or harm will use this against us."

My tears slipped down my cheeks and Danse held me close, murmuring into my hair, "It's going to be fine, Z, it's all right."

I hoped that was true. I couldn't stop my tears though. 

I thought back to that long ago conversation, when I asked Danse if he would hold me like he had held Haylen when she needed consoling. It made me smile through my tears. I had my answer 100 times over.  
And on the bright side this was one less secret I would have to guard. The weight of secrets is too much to bear. They are much too much work to keep. What a tangled web we weave… I just hoped that Shaun, as most children are, was adaptable enough to not fall apart or be damaged emotionally forever.  
 

We went back to Harold’s, and went upstairs. 

Shaun was setting up the chessmen again. He grinned when he saw us. Dogmeat was laying contentedly by his side.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, “come look at the moon with us. It’s full and beautiful. A hunter’s moon I used to call it.”

Haylen said wryly, “He is too good at this game. I never had a chance.” She looked to Clarke, “Hey, Dan, how about you take me on?”

Clarke smiled shyly, his eyes shining, “You bet, Sarah. I think I got it kind of figured out from watching you two.”

Hmmm, I thought. Was that sparks between the two I was seeing? At least it seemed to be for Dan Clarke.

Danse led the way and we went back to the same spot where we had had our talk.

I saw someone out of the corner of my eye, and whipped around, only to see no one there at all.

Still, I had the distinct feeling we were being watched. Dogmeat whined, picking up on my jumpiness.

“Why is it called a Hunter’s moon?” asked Shaun gazing up at the large, orange moon hanging low on the horizon. 

“The real Hunter’s moon shows up in the fall, after the deer have all gotten nice and fat. And the American Indians used to go hunting in the moonlight – and a full moon is the best night for that. It’s just that every time it looks this big and orange, I have always called it that.” I said, gazing at it.

“Let’s move over that way, to the top of that rise, for a better view,” I suggested. From the top of the hill, our view should be unimpeded from all directions. I did not want eavesdroppers on this conversation.  
Danse spoke first, “Shaun, what is the first thing you can remember? As far back as you can.”  
Shaun started to speak, then stopped. He frowned, then looked turned puzzled eyes back up to Danse. “I can’t…I just remember I had to get out, I had to find mom and get out. Everything else seems fuzzy. I don’t remember anything before that. Sometimes I think I do. But I can’t make myself remember.” He started frowning deeply, trying hard to make his mind remember.  
“Do you remember the man everyone called ‘Father’?” Danse asked softly.  
“No…well, yes, kind of.” His little face tightened up in concentration, “I can see his face, but when I try to see it clearly, then everything gets blurry and then it’s gone.” Now Shaun looked a little frightened. “Dad, why can’t I remember? The harder I try, the fuzzier it gets.”  
Danse and I exchanged a look, and I nodded. I knelt down and held Shaun to me. Dogmeat moved so that his body was touching both of us.  
“It’s the same for me,” Danse said gently. “I can’t remember anything before I was ten years old. And I only had the one name for myself. I didn’t have much time to worry about it, because I was alone and hungry and scared. And sometimes I have really odd dreams about being in a white room with bright lights and voices talking about me.”  
“I have kind of the same dream…” he whispered. Shaun’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. A quick study, this boy was.  
He smiled at Danse and reached his hand out for his. “So I am probably a synth, too. Like you.”  
“Yes, Shaun, you are. Like me.” Danse held the boy’s hands in his own.   
“So this ‘Father’ made me?” Shaun asked, now frowning as his mind worked hard on this revelation.  
“Yes, just like he made me,” Danse said, in that gentle, kind voice.  
“So I’m not really your son?” he looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes which shone with innocence.  
“You were made out of my son, to be him as a child. You are my son in every way biologically except that you weren’t born like ‘Father’ was. Do you understand?” I said softly, speaking into his ear, while I held him close.  
“I… think so.” He said thoughtfully, frowning again, straining to remember anything before that moment when he knew he had to find me and leave with me in the Institute.

Suddenly Danse spun around and flew onto the ground, Shaun falling into me as Danse’s hands were torn away from his. I tripped over Dogmeat and went down with Shaun on top of me.

I was blank with surprise for a few precious seconds, before I flattened myself to the ground. I crawled to Danse, pulling Shaun with me. “Keep low!” I hissed at him.

Danse was unconscious, and he was bleeding badly from his head. My throat clenched up in terror, and I had to forcibly relax my body enough to draw in a breath.

All I had was my pistol with me. I handed it to Shaun, and pulled Danse’s rifle from his back.

Being on a hill had guaranteed our privacy, but in the light of the full orange colored moon, we made perfect silhouettes. Perfect targets.

I started scooting backwards on my stomach, down the hill, motioning to Shaun to do the same. I pulled on Danse’s leg to drag him with us. Shaun immediately grabbed his other leg and began to pull too. It shouldn’t have helped as much as it did, but between the two of us, he slid over the rocky ground easily. Soon we were at the bottom of the small hill, and hidden in the dense shrubbery at the bottom. 

Then the cavalry came. Ron, Luke, Clarke and Haylen and the watchmen of Jamaica Plains as well as Harold and his little Lydia, carrying a gun almost as big as she was, as well as several other Jamaica Plains settlers.

There were four raiders and two ran. The other two lay lifeless on the broken pavement. A young woman and a middle aged man. If I wasn’t so angry at their sniping at us, I would have felt sadness at the choices they made for their lives. But right now, I was glad they were dead. They had tried to kill my Danse and Shaun as well as me.

I was much more concerned with Danse, who was still unconscious and whose face was dripping with his own blood.

Haylen, who was the medic of our group administered a stimpak and used the lantern someone had thought to bring to examine him.

“He’s lucky,” Haylen breathed in relief, “The bullet didn’t penetrate his skull, just bounced off his hard head.” She looked at Shaun and smiled at him reassuringly, “Head wounds bleed a lot, Shaun, it’s actually not bad. He probably has a concussion, but the stimpac will help with that.”

I felt such a terrible relief, it took everything I had to hold myself together. 

“Why isn’t he waking up?” I asked Haylen, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, keeping one eye on Shaun. I didn’t want to frighten him, but I was terrified. I couldn’t imagine life without Danse.  
“This is not abnormal after a blow to the head,” she said matter of factly, patting my hand. Then she called to Dan Clarke, Luke and Ron to carry him back to Howard’s house. 

Lydia and Howard had gone ahead to prepare a space for Danse. I held tightly to Shaun’s hand and tried to keep my face calm and relaxed. I remembered my mother telling me once that she knew that she must be showing her bad mood when she realized I was walking around with a frown on my six year old face. Kids pick up on their parent’s moods.

They laid Danse gently upon the bed that was in what would’ve been the living room pre-war. And Haylen got her medic kit out and shaved the hair around the wound. 

The bullet had struck the side of his head at just the right angle to ricochet off the bone, and by some miracle didn’t crack his skull.

He lay pale and looked as though he could be dead, except I could see the rise and fall of his chest.

“How long do you think he’ll be out?” I asked Haylen.  
“Could be anywhere from minutes to hours,” she said taking my hand. She lifted up his eyelids one at a time, and seemed satisfied with what she saw. “He’s going to be fine, Z.”  
As much as I had tried to mask the deep panic I felt at the thought of losing Danse, Shaun was looking fearful and worried.  
I asked Lydia if we could set up another cot or bed near Danse so that Shaun and I could stay by him and sleep there tonight.  
She quickly agreed, her large brown eyes warm with compassion. Harold came up and put his large hands on my shoulders and said, “Consider it done, Z.”

Then I heard his deep voice in the background and before I had much more time to think, three men rearranged the furniture and made room for the double bed they brought in for Shaun and I. Another woman, I didn’t know her name, brought bedding. And then they left us. 

Haylen told me she’d be upstairs and to call her if there was any change at all. 

Something woke me in the middle of the night. Shaun was still sleeping soundly, sideways on the bed, rolled up like a cocoon in one of the blankets we were given. 

I sat up, quietly, so as not to wake the boy, and touched Danse. He moaned in response to my touch and his eyelids fluttered open.

“Z?” he asked huskily, “…need some water.” 

Lydia had left us a pitcher with cups and I quickly poured him a quarter of a glass full. I helped him sit up and brought it to his lips. He drank it all, and then groaned, “My head hurts…”  
“Yes, well, it should. A bullet bounced off your skull. Haylen says you’re going to be fine.”

“I dreamed…” he said in a quiet voice, “I dreamed that they made me different than the others. Stronger. Smarter. Resistant to radiation. Better all around. That’s what they said. I remember. I remember your son – he was younger. About 40 maybe. But he looked like you.” He groaned again and reached up to touch the bandage that was over his wound, “Then I saw the others – the ones we think are the Enclave, but they’re not. They have another name, although some of them used to be in the Enclave. They know, or will know about Shaun. We have to … we have to protect him and this baby. They will want them. There’s a man...who is in command, and he will bring evil upon us.”

“Did you see anything that could give us a clue as what to do? Where they are?” Past memories emerging from a banged up noggin kind of makes sense, but this was the stuff of science fiction. ESP stuff. I was thoroughly bewildered by this … precognition or vision or hallucination. 

He heaved a great sigh and I gently laid his head back down.

“No, nothing that is of any real help. By steel, my head hurts.”

“Let me get Haylen and see if she has anything for the pain,” I said, starting to stand.

“No,” he said strongly, “No, stay with me, don’t go. Just let me hold you, that’s all I need.” 

So, I laid myself gently next to him, on my side and snuggled into his chest. His arms wrapped around me and he kissed my forehead.   
“That’ll do,” he said hoarsely.

“I was afraid I lost you,” I said into his chest.

“Not going to happen. Not if I can help it,” he whispered, he squeezed me closer.

It wasn’t long before the emotional and the physical toll had me lulled back into sleep, his steady, strong heartbeat under my cheek.

When Haylen came to check on her patient at dawn, it woke me up. Shaun was still sleeping soundly. She was very pleased to see that Danse was awake. She told him the pain was caused by cerebral edema which caused an elevated intracranial pressure. She dosed him with another stimpak and told him he needed to stay in bed and let his brain heal. It was just a brain bruise with swelling in laymen’s terms. She said if the pain got worse, surgery might be required if a major artery or vessel needed to be repaired or just to make an opening where the cerebrospinal fluid that was creating pressure could be released. Hopefully, the stimpak would do the repair work. She seemed completely relaxed and that helped me believe it wasn’t anything too serious.

Shaun woke up when he heard our voices and his eyes lit up when he saw Danse awake and talking. He crawled over the bed to him. 

“Dad! Dad! That was so scary! I didn’t know what you were doing! You just went flying! And then Mom and I dragged you down the hill and you wouldn’t wake up and there was so much blood!”

“I guess I am hard-headed, Shaun,” Danse said holding out his arms to the boy, who went to him. “And I am fine. Just got a headache. How are you, son?”

“Me?” Shaun looked puzzled, “Fine. I’m good. Oh – you mean about what we were talking about last night?”

“Yes.”

“I’m okay. I mean, if you’re okay about it, I’m okay about it.”

Danse shook his head in wonder at the boy, but even that much motion caused him pain. He winced.

Haylen came to the rescue. “Hey, Shaun, let’s go get some breakfast for your mom and dad and bring it to them. And get some for ourselves, too. I’m starved, how about you?”

“Okay,” he smiled happily. 

Danse watched them leave the house and took my hand. “He’s an amazing kid, Z.”

“Yes, he is,” I smiled.

“I am really, really tired, so I’m going back to sleep for a bit, Z…” his eyes had lost focus and he closed them. In a few moments, he was out.

I hoped it was a healing sleep. I wondered if once the swelling went down if the side effects of past memories and visions of the future would go away too.


	16. Charles Dickens and John Hancock

Rather than separate, I chose to stay while Danse healed. Happily, the pain lessened with each day that passed. Shaun seemed happy and kept busy, and had already won over the Jamaica Plains settlers. Lydia, especially, took him under her wing and kept a close watch over him. Rather than helping to build the new armory/blacksmith shop/residence, as the others did, I stayed with Danse.  
Being kept apart for three months made me very reluctant to leave his side.

With plenty of opportunity to talk, and when I was sure we were alone and out of hearing distance from anyone, I told him of my fears about this baby and he and Shaun. I told him what I had been thinking; what I would have to do to protect our family. To let Arthur think the child was his, prophecy and all. 

“And what of the child? Will we lie to her, too? Let her believe she is Maxson’s get?” Danse whispered. He was frowning, and I felt his simmering anger.

“I don’t want to lie to anyone,” I snapped, hurt, then lowered my voice to a bare whisper, “but you tell me, what would the Brotherhood do with synths that can reproduce? What would you have thought of the idea several months ago?”

He was silent. His grimace told me he understood very well what they would do, what he would’ve done, but that didn’t alter the fact that we would be living a lie, and making our child do the same.

“And you said Curie can produce a DNA sample that will hold up under Quinlan’s scrutiny?” he asked in a voice tinged with defeat.

“She says so,” I whispered. 

He took my hand. He caressed it absently. We were both silent while we each considered what we were contemplating doing.

“She will be able to determine paternity, correct? When the baby is born?”

“Yes,” I said in a small voice. 

“Then we will take it from there, and be ready with the false DNA just in case,” he said firmly.

I took a deep breath and said what I really wanted, “Unless we just take our family and leave this place. Find somewhere where we don’t have to lie to survive.”

“We’ll think about that, then, too,” he said, frowning deeply. “There are not many places left in the country that are survivable, Z, but there’s always hope.” 

Suddenly he grabbed his temples, and bent over, moaning. 

Alarmed, I asked him if I should get Haylen. He shook his head roughly. After an eternity that was probably only two minutes, he lifted his eyes to mine.

Danse pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “There’s been someone following you for a while now … He’s right outside the kitchen window, wearing a flannel shirt and coveralls, with black boots and sunglasses. He hasn’t been able to catch what we said, but he’s trying very hard. Go get him.”

“I’m going upstairs to get you some pain killer,” I said in my normal speaking voice, but I snuck out the front door instead. Danse wouldn’t have been able to see in the kitchen from where we were, and certainly not outside the window in there. Danse was moaning as if his head hurt terribly. I was pretty sure it was to distract our spy, but he sounded so pitiful, I had to fight the urge to run back to him.

This was getting weirder and weirder.

I tip-toed around the corner of the house, as ninja-like as I could, and there he was. Standing so still and flattened against the outside wall so that he presented a very slim profile, he could easily be overlooked. If I hadn’t known he was there and had been looking for him, I never would have noticed him. It was the same man I’d seen and recognized but could not identify again, even though this time there was no beard, and he looked lighter in weight than he did before. He saw me right before I got to him and made to flee. I threw myself on top of him and pinned him.

“You should be more careful in your condition,” he chided softly.

“Deacon???” I couldn’t believe my ears, but I knew that voice.

I didn’t let him up. “Why on earth are you spying on me?”

He grinned, “Habit? How’d you know it was me?”

I rolled my eyes. “I know I didn’t join the Railroad,” I said crankily, “but I have never stood in your way and aided when I could. I am not your enemy.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but you’re just too good to be true,” Deacon grinned, “Uh, do you think you could get off of me now?”

“Depends,” I snapped, “are you going to high-tail it and take off? I want to talk with you.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” he smiled at me, “but you’ve got to promise me safety and freedom to leave when I need to.”

I rolled my eyes again, “You are such a wretch, Deacon. Spying. On me! If you mean me and my own no harm, you have my word, let’s just hope yours is good.”

“Only when I’m not lying,” he said with a serious look. At my glare, he exclaimed, “I’m not lying this time, really!”

If he had heard Danse’s and my conversations, my secret was already compromised.

“Hey, Z,” he said conversationally, as we helped each other stand up, “How did you catch me? What gave me away?”

“Just instinct, Deacon, nothing more,” I lied.

“Good instincts,” he said frowning, not believing me. 

“Yep, wicked good instincts,” I smiled. “Come on, you haven’t formally met Danse yet, although it must feel like you know him already, since you’ve been following us for … some time?” I didn’t expect him to tell me how long he had kept me under surveillance. He’d been keeping an eye on me since I got out of Vault 111. I thought that had ended a long time ago, after I met the leader of the Underground Railroad, which, just like its historical predecessor, attempted to sneak slaves away from their masters – except the slaves in this case were the generation 3 synths created by the Institute.

I guess not.

Although the Institute was gone, the Brotherhood of Steel still considered the Railroad something that needed to be eradicated.

I had enough on my plate already. I didn’t know how I could make peace between the BOS and the Railroad. 

“I shall be happy to meet Danse,” he said cheerfully as if he were just a neighbor I had invited over to tea.

“I’m not sure I am happy to meet you, Deacon,” Danse said as he stepped around the corner. He loomed over Deacon and his face was dead serious. I wouldn’t want Danse looking at me like that.

“Well hello, sunshine,” said Deacon with false cheeriness. “Regardless of how you feel, I am glad to finally meet you face to face. You know who I am, don’t you?”

“I got the gist of it,” he answered, still glowering at Deacon.

“I take it the headache was faked?” Deacon asked.

“Yes and no,” Danse said shortly.

“Ooookay. And that makes about as much sense as an abstract painting.” 

“Come on in, Deacon.” I wished I could see his eyes. He was always wearing those sunglasses. 

We went back into Howard’s home. Deacon had just sat down at the kitchen table, when Curie hovered in.

“Z, I wanted to…oh! You have a guest! I don’t think we have met, monsieur. I am Curie.” 

“So pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Curie,” Deacon said formally as he stood, and gave a bow from the waist, “I would kiss your hand, except for the absence of same.”

“Monsieur, you are very sweet. But eet ees just Curie.” Was she flirting?

“Curie, Deacon is the intelligence arm of the Railroad and a master of disguise. He will be joining us for a while, I think,” I said glancing at Danse, who nodded subtly.  
“So zees Railroad rescues synths, yes? Did many make eet out of zee Institute to safety?” she asked.

Deacon cleared his throat, looking at me with a raised brow, “Thanks for sharing all my deepest secrets, Z, but to answer your question, Curie, yes to the first and yes again to your second question. The synths I have spoken with said the Minutemen kept the relay going as long as folks kept coming to get out. But then the relay kind of sent them all over kingdom come and we’re still trying to find a lot of strays. You’d be about as safe out there on your own as a steak thrown into a Yao guai den would be. Of course, I rescued most of them single-handedly, defying death a dozen times a day, but there are still some out there.”

“You are a very brave man, then, yes, monsieur?” Curie hovered by his side. She liked him.

I rolled my eyes, but said, “Instead of sneaking around, Deacon, just stick with us on this trip. Curie is trustworthy, and whatever cover story you wish, we’ll back up if you want to keep your identity secret.”

“All super heroes have secret identities, Z,” he said with a serious look at me, “But I suppose I will have to trust you three to keep my cover. I am just an interested Commonwealth Joe looking for the right settlement to join. Or,” he smiled broadly and winked at Curie, “maybe I’ll be a synth. See how they react. Call me…Charles, Charles Dickens.”

Danse rubbing his temples, shook his head, “Just make up your mind, man, so we can all tell the same tale, eh?”

“Okaaay, Mr. Patience Personified, since you are chomping at the bit, I’ll be a synth looking for a new home,” he nodded as if making up his mind at that very moment, “After all, you have found yourself a home, haven’t you, Danse?”

Now Danse rolled his eyes, he wasn’t going to let Deacon get under his skin. “Good enough, then. Why have you been watching us? Instead of, say, looking for lost synths in danger?”

“It’s like I said,” Deacon grinned at Danse, “you’re too good to be true. See I don’t trust any group except the Railroad. The Minutemen look good now, but a little power goes a long way, and it won’t be long if, it hasn’t happened already, that corruption sneaks its ugly little head in and starts heading down the evil-brick road with no good witch to help. The Brotherhood under Lyons were reasonable and they were the good guys in the Capital Wasteland. But the new Elder, Maxson, spreads the message of hatred of all that is not what he calls human. And the Brotherhood eats it up and has it for dessert, too. They attract bigots into their ranks.”

“What have you learned from following us?” I asked, worried. The more people knew about the possibilities of generation 4 synths, the less chance of survival for my family.

“Not enough,” Deacon frowned, “you seem to be able to sense when I am about to hear something really juicy, and get out of earshot. I know you are pregnant. And I know you were kept on the Prydwen for three months or so. I know Danse can’t be the father, sooooo…” he waggled his eyebrows at me, “I have to assume you have been engaged in some serious hanky-panky on the Prydwen.”

“Go on,” I said, “Tell me everything.”

“Okaaay. This is not what I usually do, you know. But you are good in my book, Z, and I’ll make an exception. I heard a rumor that you made a deal with Maxson, and then all those flags started showing up. Of course, I got a hold of a copy of your treaty and I had to wonder, what on earth you had to offer to get that amazing deal from the Brotherhood.” 

He stared at me, hard. I blushed. He nodded.

“Thought so. Maxson had the hots for you bad, didn’t he? So incredibly bad, he was willing to deal. And you, needing to protect your people, you did it. And now, you’re pregnant. Does Maxson know?”

“Not yet,” I whispered, glancing at the thunderclouds in Danse’s eyes. Was Deacon telling me the truth? Did he really not overhear Danse or me? I had been very, very careful. Maybe there was hope I could pull this off, if I fooled Deacon. I couldn’t be sure. His bread and butter was covert espionage. He lied as easily as another person breathed.

A bigger part of me wanted to take my family and run, run as far away from all this as I could.

“If I may ask, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out? And he will. The Brotherhood, whose usual rule is no fraternization with civvies, are asking questions now about that Enclave-type threat that has shown up. People talk, Z.”

“I told him when the child comes of age, she will be introduced to him and make her choices then,” I said tearing up.

“Hey, hey, Z,” he said alarmed, “I didn’t mean to upset you sweetheart.”

Danse glowered at him and pulled me close. “It’s the pregnancy,” he explained, “she’s more emotional than normal.”

“Well, you know, I think I’ll accept your invitation to hang with you guys for a bit. Where are we headed to next? Goodneighbor, right?”

Z laughed, “You tell me, spy. I am sure you already know our itinerary. Then you know our biggest secret, right?”  
“And that would be…?” Deacon asked with a half-smile.  
“Our secret mission to find …” I paused dramatically, then breathed out with wide eyes, “Mrs. Dogmeat.” 

He let out a loud guffaw, “Got me, Z. Yeah, I kind of figured out that one from The Castle. Your Shaun is too innocent to be worried about being overheard.”

“Oh my, Z!” Curie said surprised, “I cannot tell when you are serious and when you are being quite silly! Until I have had time to process what you say.”  
Just then, Shaun burst in with Haylen right behind him.

“Haylen says you’re good to go, Dad! We can get going soon! Who are you?”   
“I’m Charles. Charles Dickens. Synth, extraordinaire. Happy to meet you, Shaun.” Deacon said.

“I’m a synth too! So’s Danse! That’s great!”  
“Yeah, we’re the Three Synth-keteers.” Deacon said cheerfully.  
“Huh?” asked Shaun, puzzled.  
“A famous book from ages ago,” I explained, shaking my head, “The Three Musketeers – a trio famous for their amazing fighting skills and the trouble they kept getting into.”  
“Fits,” muttered Danse, but he was smiling.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Danse was back in his power armor, all spiffed up from Lyle’s competent handiwork. Luke and Dan also looked quite impressive in their newly upgraded armor. Freshly painted too, with the Minuteman insignia. No scratches or dents yet. That wouldn’t last. 

I wore my pretty and flexible black armor too, although I had to adjust it for comfort for my growing belly. The blacksmiths of Jamaica Plains had pronounced my sword perfect, but sharpened it anyway, making it a bit more than razor sharp. My sword was the topic of several of their conversations, I was told. The kind of workmanship that had made it was long gone in this world, but perhaps could be re-learned, they told me. 

Lyle had made, with Carl and Lynda’s help, a chest piece and arm and leg armor for Shaun as well as a helmet that fit him perfectly. For now, anyway. He grew pretty fast. Lyle told him to come back for adjustments any time.

It was a half a day’s walk to Goodneighbor, but at our pace it would take a whole day. 

Deacon, or Charles I should say I guess, flitted from one person to another getting them to talk about themselves and reveal their feelings about synths. He was very good at getting people flustered enough so that they would end up revealing their true opinions sooner rather than later. So far he seemed satisfied that there were no closet synth haters among us.

Danse let Luke, Dan and Ron take the lead, so he could walk next to me. He also kept an eye on Deacon. I turned back and saw that he was now walking next to a floating Curie who seemed to be chatting away with her charming French accent in her innocent way. He seemed to be listening intently to whatever she was talking about. Shaun and Dogmeat were on Curie’s other side, listening as well.

“Do you really trust him?” Danse asked with a slight frown.

“Ummm…I think so. Yes,” I said firmly, “I do. He will not do anything against us as long as we are helping and not hurting synths.”

“What about the gen 2s that are still fighting for an Institute that doesn’t exist anymore? Their programming hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t know, Danse. I don’t know enough about the Railroad to say. I would assume they would try to capture and reprogram them if they knew how. But you’d have to ask er… Charles that question. And you might even get a true answer.”

“I will,” he said. 

We were now in the city proper, with winding narrow streets, very tall buildings, rubble, and broken vehicles everywhere. A hundred places to snipe or ambush from.

“I’d feel better if you would wear your helmet, Danse,” I finally said, the spot between my shoulder blades burning as if a sniper was aiming at me from one of the tall buildings all around us.   
He unhooked it from his side, and put it on without argument. He was feeling vulnerable too.

We travelled for a few hours before the first attack. It came from two sides. Super mutants and gunners. We just happened to waltz in right in the middle of their battlefield. 

“Take Shaun and find cover,” Danse barked at me. I ran to Shaun and took him and Deacon to a large pile of broken concrete slabs that created a small hollow where direct gunfire shouldn’t be able to reach us. I told Shaun to climb in, then Deacon, and only then, did I crawl in myself. It was roomy enough where we weren’t on top of one another, but not much more. 

“Thanks, Z, I am a lover not a fighter,” Deacon said looking alarmed at the mutants charging towards our people, through a gap in the concrete he could spy from. 

Curie was out there with her surgical saw blade a-whir and when she was done, the mutie was less an arm and was down. Dogmeat was at her side too, growling like a demon with his ruff standing up like a lion’s.  
“Wow, she is awesome,” Deacon said watching Curie, “Can I get me one of those, too?”

“I don’t think there’s any more Curies around,” Shaun whispered to Deacon. “She’s one of a kind.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that from talking with her,” Deacon whispered back.  
“Shhh, you two, keep quiet and keep your heads down, now.” I ordered in my best mom voice.  
They did.  
I kept my head down too, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention to where I hid my son. It was kind of killing me to not watch to see if Danse or any of our people needed help. But if something happened to Shaun, I wouldn’t be able to face myself in the mirror, so I stayed down and tried to figure out how the battle went from what I could hear.   
That didn’t work. It was just a lot of noise. Yelling, shooting, explosions, screams and groans. Battle never sounds sane or good. But I didn’t hear any of my people’s voices screaming or groaning. I did hear Danse’s battle cry, “Send them back to hell!”   
In several minutes, the shooting slowed, then stopped all together. Deacon looked out of his spyhole and informed us it was clear.  
I keep forgetting to add battle time to my itineraries. Shoot. We might not reach Goodneighbor before dark, and I didn’t want to travel in the dark with Shaun and Annie and Deacon.   
I climbed out and saw that Haylen was tending Ron, who had taken a bullet and Annie who was bleeding from a gash in her leg. Curie was hovering next to her, and gave her a stimpak injection.  
“I’m in love with that robot,” Deacon sighed.

“You should marry her then,” Shaun said seriously.

“Yes, we can have a triple wedding for Danse and me, Dogmeat and Mrs. Dogmeat and Curie and Charles, Shaun. Good idea!” I laughed.

 

We gave up trying to reach Goodneighbor before dark when the rad storm hit and hit hard. It was too loud to hear yourself think and you could only see about four feet in front of you.

We found a semi-intact old pizza parlor to hole up in for the night. It had two apartments above the restaurant that still had roofs and some intact windows. 

Danse assigned the night watch in three hour increments. He took first watch with Ron Rosner, who was our best sharpshooter. 

After Shaun fell asleep, I went downstairs to see Danse.

His helmet was off as usual and he gave me a smile and then went back to scanning the pea soup out there. 

“Hey, handsome,” I said coming to stand by his side. Dogmeat had silently padded down the stairs and sat by my leg. He leaned against it. He liked body contact a lot. 

“Storm’s easing up,” he said, “Should be gone in a half hour or so.” He looked at me again, “Are you alright? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something,” I said suddenly feeling shy and awkward.  
“Of course, Z, what is it? If you want to talk, I’m here for you, always.”  
“Well, I was wondering if you would, you know, marry me. In Diamond City. Pastor Clements will do it, I’m sure.”  
I watched his eyebrows raise and then he grinned, “Yes, Z, I will marry you. I would marry you a thousand times over.”  
“Well, good then,” I huffed, feeling relieved and feeling silly at being relieved. “We need rings. I don’t have one for you,” I said, mouth working without brain function. I was babbling.  
“Maybe we’ll find some in Goodneighbor,” Danse suggested watching me carefully.  
“Yes, they might have rings or maybe Kleo can make us a matching pair.”  
“There you go. Simple. Is there anything else we will need? I don’t know much about how it was done in your day.”  
“Well, there used to be a maid of honor and a best man – and Shaun could be the ring bearer. Haylen could be my maid of honor. There’s no one to give the bride away.”  
“Hmmm. In Preston’s absence that leaves Clarke, Rosner and Forsythe as best man,” Danse thought aloud, “I suppose I will ask Clarke. And you can give yourself away, can’t you?”

“ Yes. Yes, I can. And Clarke will be honored, I’m sure,” I smiled. 

“Good then. That’s that. Now you had best get some sleep and let me keep watch. You are too much of a distraction for me to be a good watchman.” He kissed me chastely on the forehead.

“Alright then,” I said, my heart throbbing with giddy happiness. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, my bride-to-be.” Danse said softly.

 

We came to Goodneighbor about 10 in the morning. The storm had left everything cleaner looking and the sun was shining in a cloudless sky. It was a perfect temperature.

As we opened the door, there was no one on watch and people milled about, going about their daily business. 

I sent Ron and Luke to the local hotel to book as many rooms as they had available for our party. 

I asked Haylen, Annie and Dan to take Shaun and Dogmeat to the Third Rail to get a meal and sit while Danse and I took Curie to see Dr. Amari in the Memory Den. Deacon asked if he could tag along with us. I shrugged and looked to Danse. 

“Why?” Danse asked him.

“I know Dr. Amari,” Deacon said, “and Curie told me about what you are hoping she can do for you. It would be a good thing for the Railroad to know if this is possible. You never know when something like this might be useful for others we help.”

“I don’t see any harm,” Danse said, “Come, then. Tell me about what the Memory Den does.”

“Old tech and new tech combined,” Deacon explained, “Amari can stimulate areas of the brain that allow for reliving of old memories in a most vivid way. Some folks can’t get enough of that.”  
Danse nodded, absently. “Do you think she can help Curie transfer herself into a synth body?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. First, you would need a synth body. You’re not volunteering yourself are you?”

“We’ll just have to see what the good doctor says then, won’t we?” Danse replied.

Dr. Amari was very pleased to see me. She didn’t seem to recognize Deacon who had positioned himself behind Danse and managed to look unimportant.

“Z, you did it. Without the Institute hounding us, we will finally have peace,” she said, giving me a hug, “It has been a long hard road for you and I hope that you will find your own peace.”

“Thanks, Dr.,” I said meaning it, “But I came to you because my friend needs help and we hoped you could help.”

She looked at Danse, then at Deacon with a question in her eyes, but it was Curie who floated right up to her.

“Dr. Amari,” she said in her sweet voice, “I am begging for your help. I am limited in this form in my capacity for inspiration and I believe with my whole heart that I can be a better scientist with a human brain. You can transfer memories from one body to another, yes?”

Amari looked taken aback. “I can transfer memories, yes, but not personality! I don’t think I can help you. Why do you think you will be better off in a human body?”  
“My robotic systems are limited in a way a human brain would never be. I can only make simple logical determinations and conclusions – to make leaps of intuition that is the stuff of new inventions or discoveries is not possible for me in this form,” she said, sounding as if she might cry.

I told Dr. Amari what I had discovered in Vault 81 and how Dr. Kenneth Collins had spent the rest of his life in captivity in the vault making Curie much more than she should have been able to be. I told her about the universal cure Curie had created, all alone, trapped for 80 years in the laboratory.

Dr. Amari frowned deeply and rubbed her chin. “It would not be possible to do this with a human subject – but a synth brain is a combination of both human and synthetics that might well be conducive to a full transfer. But I would need a subject who …,” here she paused, “I work for the Railroad,” she said softly, “The Institute is gone now, and I can tell you. I performed mind-wipes on synths so they could hide in plain sight. Only those who requested them, of course. Given new memories and having no knowledge that they are synths. It was the most effective way of protecting them from the Coursers sent to hunt them down. I know of some – I guess you would say – brain dead synths that are being cared for until they die a natural death. Let me contact one of these caretakers and see if she will give her permission to use this synth for Curie.” 

Curie thanked her effusively.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Amari warned, “This will be a first for me and I can only hope it will be successful, and the caretaker must give her permission.” She turned to me, “Come back in 24 hours. I should have either the synth here or will have to try for another caretaker.”

I thanked her again and we left. As we came out, we were met by the Mayor and his second hand Fahrenheit. Fahrenheit was one tough looking woman, with a Mohawk and muscles to spare. She acted as his bodyguard as well as his right hand man.

Mayor John Hancock was a ghoul. “Any action happening in my town has to come by me, Z,” he said, “You come and bring a small army with you, I need to know what’s going down here. You’re in my town. Even if you brought down the Institute.”

“Mayor,” I dipped my head, “allow me to introduce my companions,” and I introduced Danse, Charles Dickens and Curie.  
I explained what we were here for.

He looked at Deacon with a frown, “Charles Dickens, eh? And my name’s John Hancock. Heh.” He looked back to me, “How many did you bring?”  
I told him our number and told him I had my son with me too. They were over at the Third Rail. I asked if it was acceptable that we spend the night in his city.  
“Fine by me,” he said after a pause that let everyone know he had the power to approve or kick us out.

“Mayor Hancock,” I said thinking about fingers in pies and such, “You seem to have a good network of intelligence in the area. Would you happen to know about a new group that might be related to the old Enclave that like to experiment on people?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he said ambiguously, “What’s it to ya?”

“They’ve kidnapped nearly a whole community,” I said with a touch of impatience, “and we’re trying to find them. One of their members came to me for help.”

“Well, then, that is not acceptable, is it?” He frowned and gave Fahrenheit some kind of subtle signal, and she nodded and jogged off. “Come to my office tonight.”

“Danse will come with me,” I said firmly.

“Fine,” he said looking over Danse, “he looks like a good body guard.”

“He’s my fiancée,” I corrected.

“Oh, it’s like that, eh? Guess my chances with you have come and gone. Too bad,” he said shaking his head.   
Danse glowered at him and didn’t say a word. 

He left us then and we went to go find our comrades, Dogmeat and Shaun.


	17. John Hancock and Wedding Paladin Danse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curie finally gets a body and all the issues that come with one, Z gets Danse - to have and to hold, forever.

I entrusted Shaun’s care to Haylen, Curie and the others as they hung out at The Third Rail, after having settled in their rooms at the Rexford Hotel.

Danse and I went to the State House where the Mayor had his offices. The difference between Mayor McDonough’s office and Hancock’s were a lot like their personalities. To try and see McDonough in his office was next to impossible, unless he wanted to see you, then it was easy. Hancock, on the other hand, you could see anytime, if he was in his office.

McDonough was dead, and had been replaced by a synth, who was also now dead. He had not been replaced yet, as far as I knew. We would find out, I suppose, when we got there.   
Hancock’s door was literally wide open. Fahrenheit was looking comfortable on one of his couches in the large, upstairs room.

“Sit, please, make yourselves comfortable? Want some Mentats? I just took some, good for the gift of gab and all. Of course, it’s for the betterment of mankind and all that rot.”  
At Danse’s frown and my shaking my head, he responded, “A shot of Bobrov’s moonshine? Some good whiskey?”

“No thank you, Mayor,” I said, trying to stay patient, “I appreciate your hospitality, truly. But we were just really hoping you could help us find out about this new enemy who uses vertibirds and uses power armor and who kidnaps the Children of Atom.”

Hancock rubbed his chin and looked at us for a few moments before speaking, “Danse, you were with the Brotherhood, right? Would you say these guys remind you of the Enclave of the past?”

Danse looking directly at Hancock nodded his head, “Absolutely. Either they have recovered enough to start up again or a few of them have started something new. We don’t know if their goals are the same or what their intentions are for the people here. Except for the large group of the Children they have taken.”

“Hmmm, those wacky kids of Atom. Gotta love them, right? But even if they are crazier than bats outta hell, they still have the right to live free, eh? Truth be told, I do have ears and eyes around the Commonwealth, and they have run into folks like you describe. Mostly in the old tech centers of the ‘Wealth. So, I would guess, like the Brotherhood, they are looking for materials and knowledge to rebuild the tech of the past for their own uses.”  
I told him then what Nick and Arthur had assumed was this group’s use for the Children of Atom, their immunity to radiation. After talking more with Brother Maynard, it had become apparent to me they had only taken those Children who showed complete immunity and left behind those who showed signs of hair loss, skin lesions or otherwise looked unhealthy.

“Why don’t we give these guys a name just to make talking about them easier,” John Hancock suggested, “Let’s call them The Black League, okay? TBL. Okay, TBL has power armor, vertibirds, kidnaps people who are immune to radiation and searches for tech. What was the Enclave’s end game? What did they want to accomplish? Maybe TBL is carrying on the mission,” John suggested.

“The Enclave wanted to be God. And pull a Noah’s Ark. Killing all the people above ground that had been mutated by radiation. That meant anyone not born and raised underground. Start life on earth anew,” Danse explained, “So maybe this Black League wishes to continue on their mission.”

“How on earth would they replace the flora and the fauna?” I asked, trying to imagine the surface after all irradiated life had been eradicated.

“We never knew their entire plan for the future. We just stopped them from taking the pure water we were trying to get to all the people of the Capital and poisoning it for all irradiated creatures.”

“It sounds as if they know a lot about DNA and such. Maybe they have a pre-war DNA bank with a lot of the animal life too. Makes sense if they took the Children for DNA research. Maybe they want what the Enclave did with a little adjustment - to make a new people to populate the earth who are immune to radiation.”

John Hancock waved his hand impatiently, “All well and good to guess what the Black League is doing, the question is, what you are going to do about them?” He got up and poured himself a healthy glassful of Bobrov’s. He sat back down and sipped thoughtfully as he looked to Danse and then to me.

“Our first goal is to find them,” Danse said quietly, “We can’t get Mother Isolde and the others back until we know where they are. We promised we would try and rescue them.”

“Really? Good for you, man. I think I could start to like you, Danse, even if you took the gal of my dreams away from me,” Hancock winked at me with a smile.

Z could see Danse bite back an angry retort and then pause before he said, “Yes, well I got lucky, Mayor Hancock, very lucky.” He took my hand in his and squeezed it.

I smiled and shook my head. “So, John, if I may call you by your first name, any ideas on how to find the Black League?”

“You can call me whatever your little heart desires, Z. I hate to say this, sweetness, but I think we’ll have to wait until they show up again to do some more mischief. Then maybe, between your people and my people and whoever else we rope in, maybe we’ll be ready when they do and get a clue.” 

And with that, our conference with the Mayor of Goodneighbor came to an end. 

When we got back to the Hotel, I found Deacon and Curie in deep conversation. I asked Curie’s pardon then took Deacon aside and asked for the Railroad’s help – all their tourists and other assets in the field to be on the lookout for The Black League. He thought the name was quite catchy and was sorry he hadn’t thought of it, but he agreed and would send out the word to Desdemona and his contacts. 

Then I went to Haylen and asked her to be my maid of honor, explaining what that was when she didn’t know. 

She was delighted and excited. “You know, Z, I love Danse. I couldn’t be happier for you both. I am honored that you chose me. Thank you.”

I hugged her, and afterwards, she looked at me frowning, “Are you….?”

I smiled, chagrined, “Yes, Haylen, I am.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, then smiled and then frowned. “Oh!” she said again, having thought about it for more than a moment. “Elder Maxson?” she guessed.

This gave me more cause for hope that I could keep this baby and Danse and Shaun safe, “Looks that way,” I said, patting my tummy, and not lying outright.

“Oh…” she said again, “Oh, Z! You are carrying the Maxson heir? The Brotherhood will want this child for their own. You know that don’t you?”

“I’ve got it on paper, signed by Maxson and Quinlan. They will not take my child away from me.”

Haylen’s eyes got round with shock, “How did you manage that?” she choked out.

 

I rolled my eyes and blushed, “I just did, let’s leave it at that, shall we?” 

“Maxson and Quinlan may have agreed, Z, but there are factions in the Brotherhood that would use the Maxson heir to their advantage – as a political move. That’s why Lady Jessica sent Arthur Maxson away as a child too, I think. Those who can claim the heir can claim power. And if they can’t control the heir, they might well try to dispose of him or her.”

“Danse and I will never let that happen,” I said, feeling the sudden fierce need to protect my own surge up into my heart. 

“I will help you see that it doesn’t,” Haylen said with heartfelt passion, “I give you my word on my honor that I will do whatever I can to make sure your child is never harmed.”  
I hugged her again and my darn eyes started leaking again. I had chosen my maid of honor well. 

In the morning, Curie, Danse, Deacon and I went back to see Dr. Amari. We went through the business part of the Memory Den, which had several memory loungers, already occupied, and went through the doorway in the back and down two flights of stairs where Amari’s lab was. 

There was two women I didn’t know there, one standing, fidgeting and one in the one of the two loungers that Amari had there. The woman I didn’t know looked exhausted. She was tall and thin, with prominent nose and cheekbones and short grey hair. She didn’t look like a happy person. The woman in the lounger was as still as death, but I could see the faint rise and fall of her chest. She was lovely. She had fine features, ivory skin, dark, dark hair cut short, finely arched brows and long black lashes. Her long fingered hands lay crossed atop her abdomen, like a corpse on display in a funeral parlor.   
“Z, this is G7-56’s caretaker,” she said.

The woman spoke in a gravelly, low voice, “I didn’t know G7 myself. I am just one of the voluntary caretakers if a mind-wipe doesn’t work for a synth. It’s getting too expensive and time-consuming to keep her alive,” she said sadly. “I wanted to meet this Curie for myself though, before I gave my permission.”

I motioned for Curie to come and meet her. Curie in her own words told the caretaker her desires to help and how she thought having a synth mind and body would help her do it.  
If I had been hearing her for the first time, she would’ve convinced me, I thought, smiling.

The caretaker nodded solemnly. “You have my blessing,” she said, “for whatever that’s worth.” She turned to Amari, “Let me know if you succeed, Doctor, please. There are other synths out there in this state with other caretakers.”

“I will, I promise,” said Amari.

Then she turned to Curie and I. Deacon stood close by Curie and Danse held my hand.

“I cannot give you any guarantees, you know. This has never been done before. But in my opinion, it should work. Curie, you must know it will be traumatic for you at first. You will be in a body that breathes, needs food and sleep, and can get hurt, sick and bleed. Your mind will be expanded so that at first it will be overwhelming. You will need to go slow and easy, and prepare yourself as well as you are able.” She turned to me, “She will need a lot of time and support for this transition. She will need someone near her 24 hours a day for a while, until she has had time to adjust.”

Deacon spoke up, “I can help. I will help,” he said looking at me for approval.

“Good,” I said sighing, “Curie will have us behind her, Dr.” Then I turned to my friend, “Curie, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“I have no doubts, my friend,’ she said confidently and with barely concealed excitement. “Let us continue, please.” Curie had hovered over to the body she was going to be in. “She looks like she is asleep,” she said.  
We watched while Dr. Amari wired connections to Curie’s hardware, and lowered the memory lounger’s dome over the synth.  
“Everything is ready,” Amari announced, “If you are ready, we will proceed.”  
“Oh, yes! Please do, Doctor. I am as ready as I will ever be,” Curie said with no fear in her voice.  
I nodded too and Dr. Amari threw a switch, and Curie, the robot crumpled to the floor, lifeless. The synth in the lounger was gasping for air and starting to hyperventilate.  
“Easy there, easy,” Amari said, offering her hand to the synth.  
She took the offered hand and stood, wobbling like a new fawn trying out her legs for the first time.  
“Slow down your breathing, now. That’s a good girl. Now, tell me, what is your name?”  
“I am Curie, or Contagious Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer, as Dr. Collins named me,” she said breathlessly.  
“Good, good,” said Amari, “Let’s see how your processing is. Curie, tell me, what is two plus one?”

“Three,” she answered easily. “Oh, my. What happens if I forget to breathe?? Will I die, Doctor?””

She held her hand to her chest and then looked at it as if it were some new interesting creature.

“You won’t Curie. You know this already. It is an involuntary function. Do not panic. Slow down your breathing, find your rhythm. That’s good, that’s good,” Amari crooned.

“Yes, yes…I will, oh! My head is full of thoughts, of sensations, of feelings…too many. How do humans think straight at all with all this going on?” Her new dark chocolate eyes were wide with fear.

“You will get used to it, Curie. In about two weeks, I would guess, you will become accustomed to the senses you now have and all the input from them as well as having an imagination. You will be a better scientist with these things that are so confusing to you now,” Amari spoke in a soothing, lulling voice.

“Yes, yes, you are right, of course. Yes. And thank you, Doctor, thank you for zees chance, zees new life you have given me.” Curie’s breathing had slowed to a more normal rate.  
“You’re welcome, Curie,” she said, in that low, gentle voice.

I took Curie’s hand and held it. “We will help you through the transition, Curie. You’re going to be fine.”

She still looked a bit like a deer caught in a car’s oncoming headlights, but better than she had before. “Thank you, Z, I know you weel.” 

Deacon came up on the other side and took her other hand. “Curie, I won’t leave your side, unless you ask me to,” he said, not sounding like his normal wise guy self.

“Oh, thank you, Monsieur Charles, merci.” Charles was pronounced liked shahrlzs when she said it. It was cute.

Deacon was as good as his word. He was so good at this job, that I felt confident leaving Curie in his tender care for most of the time. I was grateful for the help. I should’ve realized that it might be a very difficult transition from robot to a human form. 

Danse and I decided it was safe to move on to Diamond City and Dr. Amari gave her approval with all her disclaimers. Do all doctors and pharmacy companies have to make sure we know all the horrible side effects that might happen once in a million chances? 

We had done all we could for now to find the Black League. Curie had her fondest wish granted. And now, it was my turn. 

I was going to get married.  
   
We arrived at Diamond City with no trouble on the way. The guards who patrolled the city recognized me and waved my party in with no hesitation. 

I had helped defend these guys whenever I was around and they needed it, and Danse had too. I had purchased an apartment here too a while ago, so between my place and the Dug Out Inn which had a handful of rooms, we would be perfectly comfortable. And I still had the key to Kellogg’s home too which I decided I had righteously enough inherited. I let our Minutemen have his old apartment.

Before we had left Goodneighbor, Kleo had made us matching rings out of Danse’s holotags, which I thought very fitting.  
Danse and I went to meet with Pastor Clements to see about getting married.   
It wasn’t like the old days. No banns had to be posted, no pre-marriage classes required. He just asked us when we wanted to do it and how.  
Deacon and Curie went to my place to get comfortable. He was still sticking by her faithfully as he said he would. She seemed to be adjusting very, very quickly.   
Shaun, Dogmeat and Haylen went shopping. The others went about as they wanted to.

I slipped into Nick’s office. Ellie was out of the office. Nick was sitting at his desk, looking over some files. He looked up and smiled when he saw me.  
“Z, what’s up? Want to put on the detective hat again? I have a few cases that just won’t close.”

“Well, I wanted to ask you two things, actually,” I said, shuffling my feet, then taking a chair. 

“Shoot,” he said, curious.

“Well, Danse and I are getting married tonight, and I wondered if you would give away the bride for the ceremony?”

“I’d be honored, Z. Really and deeply honored. It means more to me than I can say,” he would have been blushing I think, if he was capable. And that was going to be related to my other question.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Nick. Now, the other question is one that I’ll just have to come out and ask. How would you like a gen 3 body and brain? We just had Curie transferred fully, soul and mind, into a mind-wiped synth. The wipes went wrong. And they have a few more who are just existing, like vegetables, – with no chance of recovery, yet they are still taking care of them. The caretakers are willing to let us take them. There aren’t going to be any more mind-wipes done, so it’s kind of a limited time offer.”

Nick had met Curie during my travels. He knew how big this was. How huge.

“Well, I’ll be,” he said slowly, “that’s something to ponder, alright. Let me think on that one for a bit, Z. I have to say, I’m kinda used to this ugly old mug of mine. And so are the people of Diamond City.”

“Take some time. Then let me know and send word to Dr. Amari if you decide it’s the right decision for you,” I said, “but in the meantime, come to Pastor Clements chapel at sunset.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Z. I’ll be there.” He patted my shoulder and we both stood. I paused for a moment then hugged him to me tightly.  
“Thank you, Nick, for everything. You are so important to me.”

He returned my hug and said, “Ditto, kid.”

Then I went to Fallon’s Basement. I needed a decent dress and something for Shaun.   
I was happily surprised. There was an actual tuxedo there. And a formal hat. It might even fit Danse. There was a tailor in town too, to make alterations. I chose a cream colored off-the-shoulder one for me, and a pretty, simple A-line light blue dress for Haylen. I still had the high heels that the page had found on the Prydwen. For some reason, I had packed them for this trip, as well as the cosmetics. I found a lacy scarf that was a darker cream, and would do just fine. Shaun was a little tougher. I found a decent shirt and pants, but they would also need a little help.

I dropped off the dress, tux, and child’s clothing to the tailor’s and then brought Danse and Shaun back with me. She made a few measurements and promised to have our clothes ready by dusk.

When I had done all that I could think to do, I retreated to my apartment, asking Haylen to come with me. I had bought some food and a bottle of wine from the market to put in the ‘fridge. We took turns bathing. Then we made a trip to the hair salon in town and asked for pretty and simple styles. It didn’t have to hold up longer than a few hours, I told John at Kathy and John’s Salon.

Ron and Luke had the lists of the settlement’s needs to order shipments to be delivered to them as they came available, so I didn’t have anything else to do, except for fuss over my two guys and get Haylen and myself ready.

Danse and Shaun came back, newly fitted clothes in hand. I suggested they shower and go see John for trims. Danse shook his head and seemed amused by all my fussing, but did what I asked. Shaun was bouncing with excitement, picking up on my mood.

Haylen and I took half my apartment, partitioned off from the other half and got ready. I did her makeup and she helped me with mine.

We snacked, had glasses of wine, and primped. Haylen pronounced me as good as I was going to get. I didn’t have any mirrors here, so I took her word for it. She looked as lovely as I could have ever imagined her. Without her ever-present uniform, with her hair, shining and clean down to her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling, she was the epitome of femininity. She was pretty.

When the guys came back, we told them no peeking and to get dressed and meet us at the chapel. Haylen and I slipped out the door on our side and went to see Pastor Clements.   
I should have known by now.

Word spreads in Diamond City like wildfire. There were white lights strung up along the wooden walkways with tissue paper flowers and streamers. And someone had made a large banner with Congratulations Z and Danse printed in large block letters. It was hung above the steps to the stands that were at the front of the Chapel. 

Pastor Clements winked at me and smiled. I shrugged and shook my head. I just wanted to get married, the rest was just window dressing.

Haylen and I stayed inside the Chapel while everything was set up. Then Pastor Clements opened the door and let Nick Valentine in. Clements said, “It’s time, Z.” The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were more pronounced when he smiled. 

Clements motioned me out first, with Nick next to me, Haylen behind us and then he followed us out.

It seemed as if everyone in Diamond City was there. 

But Danse stood, with Dan Clarke and Shaun and nothing else mattered. Danse in his tux and hat looked like the storybook groom – almost too perfect. My heart sped up. Shaun looked neat and well kempt if not as formal as would have been appropriate. 

Pastor Clements cleared his throat noisily and began, “Dearly Beloved we come together tonight to witness the joining in holy matrimony of Z and Danse. Who gives the bride away?” he asked.  
“I do,” said Nick, then he brought me to Danse’s side and bowed gravely to him, “You take care of her, Danse, she is a treasure,” he said softly.

Danse returned his bow and took my hand. “I will,” he said his eyes never leaving mine.

The rest of what Pastor Clements said was just sounds to my ear until he got to the questions.

“Z, do you take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband from this day forward until death do you part?”

“Yes, I do,” I said loudly enough for those around me to hear, but gazing at Danse’s face the entire time.

He asked the same question of Danse who replied “I do,” with feeling.

“Ring bearer, please bring the rings,” the Pastor looked to Shaun, who beaming, very carefully brought the two rings on a little purple pillow. 

We placed the rings on each other’s fingers and repeated the words after Clements, “With this ring…,” I whispered, slipping it on his ring finger, “I, Zephyra Leah, take you, Danse, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part. 

Danse echoed my avowal as I felt him slip the ring, which fit perfectly, on my finger and promised to be mine forever.

“Then I happily pronounce you man and wife by the power vested in me through the Commonwealth and from Himself,” Clements pointed upward, then he smiled, “I love this part; now Danse, you may kiss the bride.”   
Which he did. There was cheering and some confetti too. I saw Piper and Nat supplying the stuff to the folks around them.

Curie and Deacon waited close by to give their congratulations. Curie was openly weeping looking a little bewildered by the strong emotion she was feeling, so I took her hand and told her that everyone cries at weddings. Deacon took it from there, wiping his own eyes. I was so very grateful for his help with Curie.

Shaun hugged me and then Danse encompassed both of us in his embrace.

Haylen had managed to get everyone out of my Diamond City home, and house them either in Kellogg’s apartment or the Dug Out Inn and so we were alone together. With some delicious privacy.

We made love slowly, taking a long time and drawing it out for as long as we could bear to. Then we had wine and fruit, bread, and cheese in bed and just relaxed.

“I love you, Z,” he said, holding me against his chest, as I yawned and found myself very, very tired. “I will never forget this day and how special you made it. You are loved by so many. Fate has been kind to me to have you in my life and have you love me in return.”

How could I express how I felt about him? “I love you, Danse, forever. You are my life, my very breath. I don’t know how to say it right…”

I fell asleep on his warm chest, his arms wrapped around me, surrounded by him and his love.

His groan woke me up from a deep restful sleep. As my consciousness tried to swim through the fog of sleep to wakefulness it took me precious seconds to understand what I was hearing. I thought it was in my dream, until it was still there when my eyes opened.

“Danse! Love, are you okay?” I reached out for him in the dark.

“I see more…” he groaned, “There’s a code. A code that the Director had programmed. To reveal the extra talents he gave me and that he wanted to hide …”

He moaned again, and said, “my head, Z, it hurts so much.”

I held him and stroked his back, his muscles taut with the pain. I tried to massage the tension out of his neck and the tendons there.

In a few minutes I felt the tension ease and he sighed. “I had hoped that these ‘episodes’ had come and gone, Z, I guess not.”

“Tell me what you saw,” I asked, still stroking his back.

He shuddered. “It comes in flashes, in pictures mostly. I saw the lab in the Institute I guess. But it was a small private one. It was just your son and one other. I have his name on the tip of my tongue but I can’t grasp it. Remember I told you that I had been made different than the others? They wanted to hide it, so they made a code like the reset code you’ve seen used, but this code lifts the programming that hides the extra talents they made me with.”

“You remember the code?”

“Yes. Clearly.”

I turned on the light beside the bed, and looked at him. “Should we use it?” My own eyes were large. What if it was some trick programmed by my son who seemed to enjoy long-lived plots and plans.

“I don’t see any reason to. What if it changes more than I remember it’s supposed to? Some hidden program? No, I don’t trust him nor his motives. I am perfectly content with the talents I already have.”

“Well, good, then. I agree. Was there anything else you saw this time?” I was wide awake now, my heart thumping away. Shaun, the Director of the Institute Shaun, was still touching my life - in not a good way. Would we ever truly be free from him?

“Just a sense of something looming in the future…too vague to be of any use. Enough for me to want us to be very careful and not to get separated.” He shuddered.

Enough, I thought, I will not let Shaun take this night from me, “You want some tea?” I asked, climbing out of bed to my little kitchenette.

“Yes, thank you,” he said, sitting up and massaging his temples.

“And some toast, too,” I offered. 

We sat in bed together and had our middle of the night snack and began to relax again. 

“Don’t be afraid, Z,” Danse said after we had finished, “The head wound and its effects are not something that anyone could have predicted. You and I are good. No one can take what we have from us, even if we lose our lives or our freedom, we will always have our love.”

“You’re right,” I said, snuggling into his warm side and tracing his abdominal muscles. Then I started tracing more muscles, then I strayed further down.

There was no more talk of codes or danger for the rest of the night and into the morning.


	18. Arthur and Vault 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is determined to get Z back. In the meantime, The Black League attacks Vault 81.

Arthur Alone

His cabin was so empty. Her clothes, that she always carelessly left lying on the floor or draped on the furniture, weren't there. His quarters were perfectly spotless. His hairbrush was on the bed stand, and he could see the golden strands tangled in the bristles. Arthur suddenly roared, and tore apart the bedding on the perfectly made up bed, and punched his pillow over and over until pieces of pillow fluff were flying everywhere. Then he flopped down, on "her" side. He held his face, and moaned like his heart was trying to tear in half.  
She had come to love him. There was no doubt in his mind or heart. She would've been happy if her heart had been free. He should've held out for four months. That would've been enough.  
He would find a way to win her back. If that thing was just gone or destroyed, damn it, she would come back to him. That is, unless he was the author of the synth's demise - and she found out. Then she would never forgive him.

He didn't even have the new enemy to battle and plan against. They were hiding. Filthy cowards.

The scribes had found old tech documents and manuals on sonic wave emitters that should be able to locate caves and underground hollows and were working on trying to build one that worked. It was weeks away from completion.

He was left to stew. And miss her.

Her laugh, her smile, their long conversations. His life felt achingly lonely, much more so than before he when he had had her in his daily life.  
He loved her. He felt a physical ache for her.

He slammed his fist into the poor remnants of the pillow again.

And who was this boy that both she and the synth seemed so very interested in? Quinlan had made copies of all the letters that went back and forth from the Prydwen to The Castle. He had read and re- read them, looking for a clue as to who this boy was. There were no definite answers. But they considered themselves a "family." Perhaps he was some orphaned waif she had rescued from a settlement that had not fared well from a raider or super mutant attack and taken for her own?

Perhaps she was looking to fill the hole in her heart left by her son's kidnapping with this boy.

He wanted her to have his children. He wanted her to bear the Maxson heir.

He was smart. He was a tactician. He would find the perfect plan, and then he would carry it out.

For now, he just had to wait. A plan would present itself, it always did for him. Somewhere, somehow, Danse had to be taken out of her life. In such a way that she would turn to him for comfort.  
In all the decisions he had ever had to make, he hadn't been wrong yet. He would make it happen.

We tied up loose ends and prepared to leave the next day. Danse and I escaped Piper who wanted an interview with us. I promised her I would come back some day and fulfill her wishes. She deserved that from me. Just not today.  
Hangman’s Alley was only an hour away normally for me. With this group it would take two. Danse was wearing his armor, of course, as wearing it only makes sense if you’re taking it with you rather than lugging it around by hand.  
We had been walking for about an hour when, I slowed my pace until I was next to Deacon and Curie.  
“So, synthie-girl, how are you managing?” I asked hopefully, and casting a quick glance at Deacon, who nodded slightly.  
“I am adjusting, Z, but eet ees overwhelming at times. When you were exchanging your vows with Monsieur Danse, my chest got so tight I had trouble breathing, then my stomach too was affected and then even more! Deacon said that was the feeling of being ‘moved’ or some such thing. It did feel like my insides were moving around! And then my eyes were overflowing with tears, and I couldn’t stop eet.”  
“It’s the body responding to something beautiful that makes one feel wonder or awe. Something bigger than we can truly comprehend. Something like love,” I explained. “Strong emotions are felt throughout the body. Let me ask you something, Curie. When you were in battle two days ago, what were you feeling then?”  
“I felt very strong and powerful, I felt … anger, umm, that ees not the right word, but eet was like that,” she frowned, remembering.

“There will be more to come, Curie, but you are doing amazingly well, I think,” I smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“You see? Even zat makes my chest tighten!” Her beautiful brown eyes widened and she put a hand to her chest.

“I care about you, too, sweetie,” I laughed.

“I weel get used to zees, yes? All these bodily feelings that go with emotions? I already am, really,” she mused and took Deacon’s hand, “Monsieur Dickens has been helping me so very much.” She smiled up at him with such innocent sweetness, I almost blushed for Deacon.

Deacon didn’t have eyes for me, though; he was smiling back at Curie warmly.

I left them still holding hands, and trotted up next to Shaun and Dogmeat.

“And how is the groom-to-be doing, Shaun?” I asked.

“He’s happy,” Shaun declared, sounding very sure. “I don’t think he knows he’s going to meet his girlfriend, though.”

“Well, let’s just hope they like each other when they meet,” I said looking at Dogmeat. He did look very happy. A big doggie grin on his face, with his tongue lolling out. We walked together for a while.  
He spoke of the new smithy and armory with longing. He wanted to learn smithing and how to be an armorer too. I shook my head, “You want to be everything! You might have to pick one thing over another, Shaun.”

“Why?” he asked seriously.

“Well, maybe not,” I corrected myself. Why would I impose limitations on him? He was bright enough where he probably could learn anything he wanted. “You’re right,” I said, “You can learn whatever you want to. Maybe you could apprentice under Lyle and then Carl and Lynda too. When you’re older. I am not ready for us to be apart again for a long time.”

“Okay, I guess,” he said watching my face. “I wish there were holotapes or books that taught how to do smithing and stuff.”

“There used to be lots,” I said sadly, “They need to be re-written and re-published.”

“Then I’ll do that too,” Shaun declared seriously.

“I believe you,” I said smiling at him.

Then, Hangman’s Alley was just ahead.

Before we could knock on the entrance to the small city settlement completely surrounded by fencing made out of everything and anything, the door burst open and Tammy Young ran to us, eyes wide.  
“Vault 81 is radioing for help! They are under attack! Right now! They say there are soldiers in power armor!”

“Send your fighters out,” I ordered, “I am giving you my son and a few others to look after. Use the ham radio to let the Brotherhood know now. They use 123.1 on the frequency band. Hurry! Then let everyone know that you can, tell whoever is close to converge on Vault 81 and be prepared to fight.”

It was only 15 minutes to Vault 81 from here – if we ran we could get there sooner.

“Curie, Deacon, Annie, look after Shaun!” I called back and then started to run. Dogmeat started to come and I yelled, “Go back! You stay with Shaun, Dogmeat!” He whined but turned back to go to Shaun.  
We ran. I had my pip boy to take the most direct route, so we were taking the most direct route.

After several minutes, Danse passed me and a moment later so did Dan and Luke. Cutting through the woods over the rougher terrain, we cut the journey time by half again. Ron and Haylen kept pace with me. I was huffing and slowed to pace myself. It wouldn’t do to arrive out of breath. Haylen slowed to stay apace with me. To protect me, I assumed. 

We heard the vertibirds and heard gunshots before we could see anything.

Oh, no, I thought, all those gentle people! With just a handful of security people they were no match for an armed force.

As I crested the hill, I saw Danse taking down one of The Black League’s soldiers. Dan and Luke were taking shots at several others. I watched in horror as Miranda, Gwen, Katy, Neil and Bobby were herded aboard a black vertibird. Their hands were bound behind their backs. There was no way I could get to them and stop their capture.

I did the only thing I could do, and that was aim my plasma rifle and take down as many of the enemy as I could, one after another. Hangman Alley’s fighting force came over the hill and joined us.  
I could hear more of our people coming, too. 

The vertibird with the Vault 81 victims lifted off, even as we took down their ground force. No one shot at the vertibird - no one wanted the innocents to get killed in crossfire or in a vertibird wreck.  
A new sound came from the east. More vertibirds.

The BOS vertibirds zoomed in with breathtaking speed. I was fiercely glad to see them. They swooped gracefully and at high velocity to cut off the Black League ‘birds. Those BOS pilots were amazing.  
And then the Black League vertibirds just disappeared. Into thin air. I ducked behind a tree and searched the sky. I blinked and squinted. They were just gone.

The BOS vertibirds circled in wider and wider circles.

When the last Black League soldier fell, we approached the Vault entrance.

“It’s me, Z!” I yelled out, not wanting their security guards to shoot me.

“Z!” It was Scott Edwards, one of the security force, “They took Gwen! And a bunch of others! Rachel and Erin and Austin…and more. We couldn’t stop them.” He looked horrified. Then he saw the bodies. The armored fallen of the Black League. “Thank you, thank your people for me. The damn bastards. Why? Why would they take our people?”

“I don’t know, Scott. But they’ve taken others too. We’re going to find them and we’ll get them back somehow. I’ll need a list of everyone they took.”

“Okay, okay…” he said, sounded lost, “Please, all of you. Come in.”  
Dan, Ron, Luke and Haylen were searching the bodies of the fallen for any clues or signs of life. Danse and I went into the Vault.

Without their Overseer, Gwen, Scott Edwards as the only surviving guard, took the role of leader. There was no one left to do so.

He called all the dwellers to meet in outside the cafeteria for a head count.

They had taken younger, healthy adults as well as two children, Austin Engill and Erin Combes. Little Ashes was rubbing up again my ankles and I reached down absently and stroked her. 

There wasn’t much to the story. The soldiers had hacked the vault seal and opened the door. They already seemed to know their way around, and quickly gathered up the people they wanted. Austin’s grandmother had gotten to the radio and called for help before they stopped her.

Again, the whole operation had taken mere minutes and seemed very organized and polished as if it had been practiced.

I was rubbing my temples, thinking. I didn’t know anymore than I did before, except that they had some kind of amazing stealth tech that allowed them to disappear and be silent in vertibirds! And that they were perfectly willing to leave men behind to die.

Scott was doing a roll call with a list. When he was done, he handed it to me. Several names were circled.

“They took nine of us.” He said, sounding beaten and tired. Two of his guards had perished trying to defend the vault. Their names were crossed off the list.

I noticed Danse standing abruptly and striding to the foot of the stairs. I looked up to see what on earth had him moving so quickly.

Arthur Maxson was coming down the stairs, in his own suit of power armor, without his helmet. Three knights were behind him.

The two faced each other without speaking for a few heartbeats. Then Arthur’s eyes found mine and Danse might not have even been there.

Danse read the look in Arthur’s eyes and his mouth curled down in anger. “Elder Maxson,” he barked, “Were you able to follow them for any distance?”

Arthur grimaced and cast a disdainful glance towards Danse, “No. They went stealth.” He was staring at me. I felt a blush creep up, hot and uncomfortable into my cheeks. I touched my ring like a touchstone, a charm against this man.

“Z,” he said gruffly, “if I could have a word with you, please.”

“We can speak freely here,” I protested. Then I remembered. I had a hair sample to collect. Now was as good a time as any.

“I would prefer if we could speak in private,” he spoke firmly.

“Alright,” I said sighing. I nodded at Scott. I stood and as I passed Danse I squeezed his hand. He reached his arm around my waist and pulled me to him. He kissed me possessively. His breath was hot and his mouth soft, slightly salty from sweat, and my lips responded to him, before I pulled back. I understood his need to make his claim public.

Arthur might have had thunderheads over his head. He was scowling at Danse.

I stepped in front of Arthur. I cleared my throat. “Then come, I have a place we can speak privately.”

I had been given temporary quarters in the Vault and had an open invitation to live there if I every chose to. He followed me up the stairs.  
I took Arthur to this room and shut the door.

He exited his armor and rolled his shoulders, and tilted his neck back and forth to loosen it. Then he came and stood close to me. Very close.

“You were responsible for calling us to help, were you not?” he asked. I could see the anger behind the tightness in his mouth. He did not like what he had just seen.  
“Yes, I was. If they hadn’t had that stealth technology, you would’ve stopped them. Thank you for responding so very quickly,” I said.

“Good, very good…” he said. Then he just looked at me. Then he looked me over even more carefully. My hand went automatically to my growing belly.

His eyes grew large, his eyebrows climbed and suddenly he grinned an ear to ear smile.

“You’re pregnant,” he breathed in wonder.

“Yes, Arthur, I am,” I replied in a soft voice.

He grabbed me then and placed his own stamp of ownership on my mouth. And I let him, while I grabbed at his hair with both hands, and in the pretense of passion, I pulled several hairs out.

Then I pushed him away forcefully, “Enough, Elder,” I snapped. “Behave yourself.”

I closed my hands around my prizes. My child’s guarantee of life.

“Z, I…” he started, then paused, his pupils were dilated with desire, his lips wet from our kiss.

“I kept to my bargain, and will continue to keep to it,” I said firmly. “Now, what did you need to see me alone for?”

“I didn’t need to. I just wanted to have you to myself.” He started to reach for me, saw the look on my face, then pulled back, “I miss you, Z.”

“You need to find someone else,” I said, “I care for you Arthur, but I love Danse. We are married now.”

His nostrils flared, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. “You know how obscene that sounds, don’t you? Married to a synth? You are better than that, Z. I am the man you need. The man who loves you with more passion than a hundred men. And I am not giving up. I will win you in the end.”

He turned, and climbed into his armor, then clunked out. I waited, breathless until I heard him and his Knights going up the stairs and out of the Vault.

I let my breath out all at once and sat in my chair, weak in the knees. I was going to drive the poor man crazy with mixed signals I gave him.

Then, very carefully, I found a small glass and carefully brushed the hairs I had pulled from his head into it. I carefully covered it with a small cloth and tied it over the top. Gingerly, I placed it in my side pack.   
There were several hairs, roots and all. Plenty for Curie, I was sure.


	19. Kidnapped!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their journey to Outpost Zimoja, the Black League strikes!

Oberland and Graygarden

Danse and I spent the night in my room in the Vault. I sent the others back to Hangman’s Alley. I told them to meet us here in the morning for our journey to Oberland Station and Graygarden. We had decided to continue on our journey. We had contacted Preston with their ham radio and told him the dreadful news. There was nothing else we could do for the kidnap victims here and we had told the settlements we were coming. We were expected and our visits would be an important morale boost, according to Preston, not to be underestimated in its value.

We had supper with the remaining Vault residents. 

Austin’s grandmother sat next to me, and didn’t touch her meal. I made myself eat, knowing I was not just taking care of myself when I ate.

“Z, you saved Austin before,” she said her voice breaking, “and I am asking you to do it again. Please. Please, save my grandson.”

I patted her arm, “I will, Dr. Engill, I will. Don’t make yourself ill with worry. Worrying does no good – for anyone. It won’t help Austin or any of the others.”

“I will try,” she, straightened her back out of the submissive slump she had been in, but her eyes were still swimming with unshed tears. 

Danse spoke, “Dr. Engill, they don’t seem to mean any harm to anyone they’ve taken. He’s safe. Believe that. Z and I will find him and the others. We will bring him back to you.”

She looked into his dark eyes, and some weight seemed to lift immediately from her. Danse had that effect on people. They trusted him. Made them feel like the world was safe again. Made them believe in goodness.

She reached out for his hand and squeezed it. She smiled at him, “I believe you will. Thank you, Danse.”

That night, we made love, the passion building ever so slowly until it burst into flames and we let it consume us. We slept with our legs entwined and arms tangled.  
I awoke from a nightmare where I was being frozen again and Danse was being held by shackles and forced to watch. Shaun, the old man, my son, was laughing as he said, “Wave goodbye, now. Let’s set the timer for another 200 years, shall we?”

Danse held me to him tightly, “You were crying in your sleep,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”

“Just a bad dream,” I said pushing my face into his chest and breathing deeply of his scent. My heart calmed and my tears dried. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

“No, no…it was just a stupid dream. I just need you to tell me that nothing will keep us apart,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Nothing will keep us apart,” he said firmly and kissed me to seal the words. My heart settled down and for the moment, I felt the world come together the way it should be.

The others arrived and met us outside the Vault just after dawn. Shaun ran to us and hugged me fiercely. “Mom! Dad! I was so scared! They said The Black League was here!”

Oh great, Hancock’s name for our enemy had caught on and wasn’t letting go.

“Yes, they were, Shaun,” I said hugging him back, “they took some more people. But your dad and I are fine.”

He went to Danse then, who lifted him and embraced him, power armor and all. Danse wore his power armor like a second skin. I wouldn’t have dared try to hug someone when I was wearing it – I’d break their bones or bruise them at best.

I wore my black armor, which I preferred.

I found Curie and asked Deacon to excuse us. I took her away from the others and making sure we were out of earshot, gave her the precious hairs I had pulled from Maxson’s head. She looked at them and smiled, “Perfect, Z. I need to get them in an airtight container though. Perhaps Oberland will have a chemistry bench with some slides or test tubes I could use.”

“I hope so too. Are you doing okay, Curie?” I asked.

“I am adjusting well, Z. And I find zee Commonwealth fascinating. Humankind is so wonderfully resilient to keep persevering in the face of all the past destruction. I am happy to see the flora and fauna that still exists although there has been so very much lost, it seems. I have gathered some very interesting specimens.”  
“Good. Good. You sound like yourself. Emotion-wise? How are you?”

She threw up her hands and let her exasperation out, “Truly, Z, I do not understand how humans function as well as they do with all zees emotion and all the physical distractions. I am finding Monsieur Dickens to be such a good friend and such a help, but I am feeling so very strongly about him – it is a physical response as well.” She frowned and put her hand on her abdomen as if she could pinpoint the feelings there. “I am feeling…how you say… a desire, an urge, for I do not know what ... but it feels like there is a fire burning inside of me when he looks at me or talks to me. Eet eez even worse if he touches me.”  
Oh great, she had the hots for Deacon. How was I supposed to deal with that?

“Ummm. It’s how Danse and I feel when we are together. Then we have sex. It tames the fire for a bit. Don’t worry, it’s a natural response you’re feeling. You are attracted to Deacon, err… I mean Charles.” I smiled at her gently, “Speak to him honestly about it. Perhaps Monsieur Dickens will explain it more, Curie. Maybe he feels the same way about you.”

She looked shocked. Then she looked interested. And then she smiled a tiny smile. “Oui, I weel talk to heem,” she said arching a brow.

Poor Deacon. He had no idea what I had just set on him.

I walked her back to Deacon and winked at him. Then I left them to discuss her lusting for him. 

Haylen trotted up to me, “Z,” she huffed, “I made something I want you to carry.”

“Oh! A present! For me?” I grinned at her.

“Yes, just for you,” she shook her head. “It’s a tracking device. Push this red button and I’ll be able to find you anywhere. Even underground. Or in the air. Or pretty much anywhere.”  
It was small and I tucked it into my bra. “Thanks!” I said, meaning it. 

“No problem. I have one for Danse too.”

“Please make sure that Shaun has one on him too and Dogmeat if you have an extra,” I asked.  
“Already got part of that covered, Z. Shaun was the first one I gave one too. I will have to make another one for the dog, though,” she scratched her ear. “Hadn’t thought of Dogmeat. But he’s pretty special. I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks, girlfriend,” I hugged her, feeling my heart swell with affection.  
“No problem, Z,” she hugged me back.

I was only a 40 minute walk to Oberland Station. This settlement was built at an old waystation for the railroad. The railroad tracks still existed. Maybe they could be used again one day. There was a three story bunkhouse built on the hill behind the tracks and a few market stalls set up for travelers. There was a chemistry station and a good workshop for repairs.

Curie asked permission to use the chemistry station and worked quietly and efficiently at preserving my DNA treasures. Deacon, taking his responsibility to her seriously, stood nearby while she worked.

Fran and Howie were the original couple that started the settlement. They were middle-aged, with gray hairs beginning to take over on both of them. Howie had a fierce gray beard and thick mustache and shaggy hair, but his eyes were hazel and kind under his bushy brows. He smiled often. Fran was tall and thin, and her straight gray-threaded brown hair was tied back in a severe ponytail. Her eyes were soft brown. She was a good looking woman, with humor etched around her mouth too. Both of them had a wonderful sense of humor. They made a great couple. People wanted to be around them. 

They greeted us warmly. Danse and I sat with them at a picnic table outside and we talked about how things were going and asked if they needed anything.  
Fran suggested we start working together on building schools so that knowledge could be shared. I told her about the blacksmiths and the armory and how they would be willing to take apprentices.  
“That’s what I am talking about!” Fran exclaimed, delighted. “We need to share whatever we do have. Like how your people made cloth for the flags. We need stuff like that. Even how to make what we do have more edible.”  
Hmmm, maybe the Castle Cook Off would have some real use for the Commonwealth after all, I thought.

I laughed, “You need to talk to our Annie Drake,” I laughed. “She has kind of done it already.”

Danse with Shaun in tow and Howie went to go look at their defenses, while I got Annie and left the two women in deep discussion about cooking.

They fed us lunch, and we all sat at the picnic tables and ate and talked. We warned them about the kidnappings, but told them the targets did not include settlers, but to please radio us and the Brotherhood if there were any sightings.

I brought up what I had been thinking on for some time now.

“What do you think about all of us pitching in and making a science school and center? Kind of what you were talking about, Fran. Maybe we could look for a cure for FEV or try bringing back different kinds of edible plants and fruits and such. I don’t know, just pooling our resources to make life better for all of us. Maybe the Institute scientists would want to help. I don’t want to be in conflict with the Brotherhood, but, maybe we could share knowledge together – stuff like the mirelurk repelling emitter.”

“Sounds good to me,” Fran said immediately. She looked to Howie who nodded. 

“I would contribute labor and materials,” he declared. “Joey and Tasha would probably want to go and study there – they love gadgetry.”  
Danse rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I think the Brotherhood might agree to an arrangement.”  
“Well, spread the word, then,” I said smiling and eating another bite of squirrel stew, “and we’ll use Radio Freedom to encourage participation too.”  
We left after lunch and walked at a leisurely pace to Graygarden.

Graygarden was one of the wonders of the Commonwealth. It was a farm. Complete with large greenhouse. It was initially completely run by robots. Two century old robots. Mr. Handy and Miss Nanny models. Just as Curie used to be and the robot I had purchased to help raise my family, Codsworth, who waited for us back at the Castle. 

They had needed help, sent out a distress signal and Danse and I had come. Preston suggested we put up a recruitment beacon there, and the robots had no problem with that at all. Now, it was a healthy settlement, with a dozen people living and working there.

I went to see Supervisor White, a Miss Nanny model robot who was the defacto leader of the robots. The people living here deferred to her as well. She was a gracious, if a bit egotistical leader.

“Oh, it is my friend and helper, Z! And her handsome fellow, too. Welcome Danse,” she said with her Italian accent. Whoever programmed the Miss Nanny models and the Mr. Handys liked European accents.  
She reported that all was well at Graygarden. She loved the idea of a science center, especially a botany department, which she would be happy to participate in, as an instructor or researcher.

After Danse’s and Shaun’s dutiful tour of the state of the defenses at Graygarden, Shaun was allowed to freely explore the settlement. I found him in a lengthy discussion with one of the Mr. Handy models, Professor Brown about robotics and self-maintenance.

The settlers had set up quarters for us and we all had dinner together in the downstairs of the bunkhouse. 

Annie was impressed with the cooking and got into an animated discussion of the different ways to prepare mutfruit with Harriet and Louise, the woman who had prepared tonight’s meal.  
I guess Preston was right. We were thanked for our visit by nearly everyone we spoke with. 

Danse asked to see their radio set up, and contacted Preston. He updated him on our status; telling him we were spending the night here. We told him there were no updates on The Black League. He had no news for us. All was well at The Castle and surrounding settlements.

Thad Breguette and the others made a large bonfire and we all sat around it under a cloudless night. The stars were bright. The moon just a sliver in the sky. It was peaceful. Harriet brought out a cooler full of chilled beer and told us all to help ourselves. I took one. It was icy cold and delicious.

Thad brought out a homemade string instrument and strummed while he sang. This must’ve been something they did often enough for everyone to join in on the chorus – and they sounded pretty darn good. By the third chorus most of us joined in too. Danse had a good voice. Didn’t surprise me. 

After Shaun was asleep, Danse and I stole out with our bedrolls. We went a little ways into the woods. We made love under the stars, slowly and tenderly. I fell asleep, listening to his strong heartbeat.  
His pain woke me. He was sitting up, holding his head and tears of pain were streaking down his face. He made a snarl of agony and rocked back and forth on our bedrolls.  
I massaged, and squeezed his upper back and neck, knowing it didn’t help much, but I couldn’t sit there and do nothing at all.

When I felt some of the tension melt away, I knew it was passing.

“Danse?”

“Remember the code, the one I heard before -– remember it. It’s important. I don’t know why, but you need to be the one to know it. I need to write it down for you, then I need you to memorize it and destroy the writing.”

I had my small pack with me as I kept it clipped onto my belt. I found a page I had kept of Publik Occurences and a pen. I tore off the corner of the page and I handed it to him with the pen. My hands were shaking.  
He wrote something down and passed it to me. It was dark out, but under the starlight I could make out the words and numbers, Theta - 2 – 8 Chi. Easy enough to remember. I tore up the tiny piece of paper, then buried it. The earth would break down the fragile bits of paper in no time. It was destroyed.

“You don’t know why?” I asked feeling fear rearing its ugly head deep inside me.

“No. I just know it’s important. And we need to protect Shaun. Someone wants him. Someone who feels he should be his.”

“So it’s a ‘him’? Does he mean Shaun harm?”

“I don’t know, Z, I just don’t know,” he held his head. “This is not the most helpful of things, is it?”

“It might be, Danse, we don’t know.” I said softly, and embraced him.

“We should get back to the bunkhouse,” Danse said quietly, “So we’re there when Shaun wakes.”

“Okay, let’s go.” We stood and dressed and gathered our things and went back. 

We headed out at dawn that morning, after Professors White, Green, and Brown, the robots, and Harriet and several others were up to see us off with a packed brunch to take on the way. We thanked them, and departed. 

The sky was clear in front of us, but behind us it was darkening and threatening. Starlight Drive In was only an hour and a half away. We might beat the storm if we kept a good pace.  
I glanced back, suddenly remembering Curie’s dilemma of yesterday. She and Deacon were walking side by side but a good three feet apart from one another. Nothing intimate had happened there. I understood. What little I knew of Deacon was enough that I didn’t think he would ever take advantage of Curie’s childlike innocence. Although, personally, I thought they were adorable together. They would have to work it out. He obviously cared for her and I was reasonably sure he would take pains not to hurt her.

I kept up with Danse’s long stride and Shaun and Dogmeat were trotting to keep up with the pace. Dan was walking next to Haylen and Annie. The three of them were engaged in what looked to be a lively conversation. Ron Rosner, who reminded me of one of Tolkein’s elves, with his crossbow and fine features was walking next to Luke who looked like the proverbial lumberjack. They were good friends. I wasn’t sure if they had been for a long time, or this was a recent thing. 

The storm was catching up. We were halfway there.

“Look to one o’clock!” yelled Ron, who had the best eyes of all of us.

A lone runner was coming towards us.

He looked at this distance to be a settler or a Minuteman – he wasn’t in Gunner or raider garb.

Danse broke into a run and the two met ahead of us. The woman, I could see now was in a Minuteman uniform, was bent over hands on knees, catching her breath. They spoke.

Danse walked with her back to us. His face was grim.

“The Black League has struck again. Mayor Hancock is severely wounded from an assassination attempt and the Memory Den was hit. They’ve taken Dr. Amari and, it seems, her entire laboratory, according to the report.”  
I was stunned. I had no idea what on earth we could do. They had vertibirds that could disappear. Their base of operations were somewhere in the Taconic range, maybe. 

But we had to do something. They couldn’t just come and take people from us with no consequences.

I looked to Danse, hoping he had an answer – any answer at all.

“Goodneighbor didn’t notify the Brotherhood,” Danse said. “They don’t trust them. But they did radio Diamond City, who relayed the message to the Minutemen. Who then notified the Brotherhood. By the time their vertibirds showed up, there was nothing to see. Nothing. Although with their stealth technology, I don’t know if an earlier arrival would’ve made any difference. Damn it!” He punched a fist into his armored palm.  
Preston had estimated where we would be and sent a runner from Starlight. 

With nothing we could do on foot, we walked back with her to the settlement. Her name was Miranda Gately. She was one of the newer members of the Minutemen.

She was still huffing for breath, and was now perspiring freely as her body cooled down from the exertion. She came to me.

“General?” she asked.

“That would be me,” I admitted, frustrated. All title, no power.

“It’s good to finally meet you. You’re kind of a legend, you know,” she smiled and held out her hand. 

I shook it. She had a good, firm and steady handshake. “Good to meet you too, Miranda. Call me Z.”

The storm caught us before we reached Starlight. We dosed ourselves with Rad-X and followed the road.

When we arrived, Miranda led us into their concrete bunkhouse – which had thick enough walls to block the rads.

We sat on the floor and on the chairs and one old sofa with the settlers until the storm’s peak had passed and we could hear each other.

“General,” Miranda said,. We heard the news about you and your Danse. You two just tied the knot. Congratulations are in order. I am sorry we had to meet under such circumstances.” 

“Thank you, Miranda. And welcome to the Minutemen. Just when you think we’ve got things under control,” I shrugged, “something else comes along. Which is why we need the Minutemen.”

Danse and I filled the nine settlers in on the latest events and assured them that settlements were not being targeted. We told them our suppositions about the Children of Atom and the Vault 81 folks as well as Dr. Amari. Shaun was watching all of us with wide eyes.  
Someone made hot tea. It was good. Conversation died down. Everyone was feeling the tension.  
They had made a periscope type device so that they could keep watch from inside their homemade bunker and the young man who was keeping watch jumped up with a look of terror.

“The Black League! They’re here! There’s a dozen vertibirds out there! They’re coming!”

“Miranda!” I yelled out, terror in my heart, “Do you have a bolt hole? A place I can hide my son? They’re after him! We’ve got to hide him.”

I pulled Shaun up from his place on the floor and pushed my child towards her, as she pulled a rug away to reveal a sealed entrance. She opened it with one of the male settler’s help and she took Shaun down.  
“I’ll protect him, General,” she promised, and then the man, Juan, if I remembered correctly, sealed the opening and placed the rug down. He moved his chair atop it and sat as though nothing was going on.  
“Thank you, thank you so much,” I said breathlessly. Ron, Luke, and Dan stood and prepared their weapons.

Danse stood and went to the door. My head was spinning. 

“Lock the door behind us and shoot anyone who tries to come in,” Danse ordered.

“Danse, turn on your beacon,” I said, as I took the beacon out of my bra and pressed the red button, then tucked it back in securely.

Danse took his out of his side pack and turned his on as well.

Then we went out. 

Their stealth technology included masking all sound as well as creating a field of invisibility. But we heard them now. Men streamed down lines and were on the ground already, as the vertibirds found landing sites. At an old drive-in, there were plenty of roomy spots. They were touching down everywhere. There were nine. I counted. Four soldiers on each. 36 versus five of us. Gee, 7 to one odds with someone having to take an extra guy.

We were in serious trouble.

Then they tossed grenades at us. We ran, but there were too many flying through the air to land all around us. And they weren’t explosive grenades, they were gas grenades. I tried to hold my breath, but the gas canisters spewed their contents in a massive green cloud.

The last thing I saw was the movie screen sliding down into oblivion.


	20. The Black League

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kidnapped, Z and Danse discover who their real enemy is.

The Black League Revealed

I awoke with a dry mouth, gummy eyes and a wicked headache. I went to wipe my eyes and discovered I was bound. My hands were tied behind my back and my ankles each bound to a chair leg. I was in my BDUs, my armor was gone. I was tied to a sturdy chair, and there was a large tight band just under my breasts binding me to it as well. I hurt all over. I tried to sense the baby inside me. There was no pain inside, so I hoped she was okay.  
My vision was clearing. There was an ancient looking man, seated at a gleaming desk with a built in monitor and keyboard. He was working away as if this were a normal thing to have a bound woman as a decoration in your office.   
I looked around and started. Danse was hanging lifelessly from restraints on the wall to my left, behind the man at the desk. “What have you done to him?” I cried hoarsely.  
The man took his time and finished whatever he was typing, and then leaned back, yawned and stretched.  
“Oh, the synth? Why used his reset code, of course. Wouldn’t want to have to damage him. He is almost one of a kind, eh?” His voice was of medium pitch, and certainly not resonating with power or threat.  
All the promises in the world to stay together, all the love in the world and it couldn’t stop him from being turned off, like a machine. Inside my world and heart shattered. I could almost hear the cracking apart of both.  
The man was still talking. I didn’t care. But my brain started interpreting the sounds he was making into language even so.  
“I don’t suppose Shaun spoke about me, eh? When you visited him in the Institute?” When I didn’t answer he went on.  
“I am Dr. Zimmer. The head of their Synth Retention Bureau. You met my acting proxy, that idiot, Justin Ayo? A small minded man with no vision.   
“Now, as to your offspring. I didn’t particularly like him or agree with your son on anything.”  
“He was a fool, caught up in some kind of emotional disorder – missing his ‘mommy’ I suppose or some such foolishness. Delusional. But a genius all the same.  
“He was taking the Institute in the wrong direction and they elected him Director! It should have been me. I know the difference between synthetic life and real life. Synths were created to serve mankind like a tool – you use a hammer, you don’t make friends with it. And you, ignorant woman, are just like your stupid son. You feel affection for these instruments – for Science’s sake, you married one! He would have created mankind’s replacement.”  
“So,” I said, “Disgusted by their bad judgment, you struck off on your own. Found like-minded people and what was left of the Enclave and gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse? Like the stealth technology that can make a vertibird disappear and be silent?” I guessed.  
He frowned and didn’t say anything. I must be fairly close to the mark. Maybe I ruined his speech.  
“Oh, never mind. You probably don’t even know how it works. So who’s the genius working for you?” I baited him.  
He took it. Hook, line and sinker. “The Enclave needed a leader. And I invented the stealth tech.” he turned to Armitage. “Armitage, come, please.”  
Armitage walked to us in confident strides. He stopped and waited, standing at Zimmer’s side.  
“This is Armitage, my courser. He has been with me for two decades. Armitage, show her the device.”  
Armitage, brought his hand up and pointed to a small rectangular box attached to the epaulet on his left shoulder.  
He pressed some kind of a button or switch on the device, and he disappeared. Something touched my back, and I startled. Suddenly, Armitage was there, standing at my shoulder.  
“Brilliant, yes?” Zimmer smiled. “These devices are tuned to a supercomputer in a bunker that creates a stealth field. Anything or anyone with one of these receivers can access the stealth waves produced by my invention.”  
“Why did you want me? Why did you want Danse?” I asked.  
“Well,” he began again, back on track, I thought, to where I had interrupted him. “Let’s back track a little. Your son, Shaun. A stupid, egotistical man.” He smirked, then continued, “We created M7-97 together.  
“What he didn’t know was that I programmed my own personal failsafe into him.”  
“Allow me to demonstrate,” he turned and stood. He faced Danse, chained upon the wall, “Omicron 8-79 Delta” he said loudly.  
Danse stiffened as though every muscle and tendon in his body had locked, then his head fell upon his chest, and his body went lax, as though life had just left his body. Then his body came back to life. He lifted his head and looked up, straight ahead unblinking.  
“Danse!” I cried out, but he didn’t respond. Tears rolled down my face. I was barely conscious of Zimmer. He was still talking. I was staring at Danse. What had he done to him?  
The man liked to hear himself talking. 

“I am eventually going to mind-wipe this synth, after I get all the information I want out of him,” he pointed at Danse, “and with Amari’s technology married to our own, I am going to take his synth body for my own. As you can see, I am not getting any younger and this body is on its way out. He was always my back-up plan, though your son did not know. I would only allow this type of sacrilege for me and whoever else I deem utterly necessary for the leadership of the Consortium or as you so colorfully call us – The Black League. I will never allow it to become common practice. But I wanted you to know. It will be me in this synth’s body. That body you have been intimate with, that you have wed. Will that make you my wife, then, you think? Will you fuck me when it is my body?” he laughed dryly, finding this thought amusing, perhaps. 

“And the synth child your son insisted on creating – the image of himself as a child, well, I’ll keep him on reserve for another body, perhaps when that one wears out. After all, they are both mine alone, with your son dead. My creations.”  
“You are very wrong,” I said quietly, with murder in my heart and eyes, “They are mine.”  
“Oh, you are amusing!” he chuckled. He turned his head and called, “Armitage!”  
The man with no expression, short military haircut, and cold blue eyes responded, “Yes sir, Dr. Zimmer?”  
“Release M7-97, please,” Zimmer ordered.  
Armitage went to the console by Danse’s hanging body and pressed a button. Danse landed on all fours, then straightened and stood in one smooth motion, still staring straight ahead.  
“M7-97, come to me,” Zimmer ordered.  
Danse walked briskly to Zimmer’s desk and stopped at the desk, standing alert and expressionless.  
“M7-97, do you remember your life up to this point? All of it?

“Yes, Dr. Zimmer,” he answered with no expression.  
“Then you know who this woman is.” Zimmer said.  
“Yes, Dr. Zimmer.” His eyes started straight ahead.  
“Slap the woman,” Zimmer ordered.  
Danse took two steps to stand in front of me. He brought his hand up and his palm hit my face with such force my head rocked back and I saw stars.  
“Now, kiss the woman,” Zimmer said with a smile.  
Danse squatted down in front of the chair I was tied to and took my face in his hands and put his mouth on mine. There was no passion, no feeling, just his lips on mine.  
I whispered, “Theta - 2 – 8 Chi” into his mouth. The code he had remembered on our wedding night. I wasn’t sure what it would do, but I had a feeling it wasn’t one of Zimmer’s codes. I had not much else to lose besides Shaun and my unborn child.   
I kissed him with every ounce of passion I could muster. His lips remained motionless on mine.  
“Enough,” Zimmer barked, frowning deeply, “Stop, M7-97, and stand up.”  
Danse stood and waited like an automaton. Awaiting the next order.  
Was he really and truly lost to me? Was he lost to himself? Was he aware of what was going on and screaming on the inside? The horror of it made my insides clench.  
“So, you see, my dear, my creations are masterpieces of science – but they are not human. A synth is a synth, is a synth, no matter how you have deluded yourself. He will obey only me now. He has no free will at all.”  
My silence didn’t please him. He wanted some reaction from me. So he would receive nothing. Nada. Zilch. He was a monster and he had taken Danse away from me and from himself. I would kill him for this. He was a dead man walking. My tears dried up and I was left with a cold emptiness.  
“Would you like to see the rest of The Black League’s deep dark secrets? I would like to show them to you,” he smiled at me, with a wicked glint in his eyes behind the thick lenses of his black rimmed glasses.   
“Sure, why not?” I answered. It would certainly give me a better chance to kill this man than tied to a freaking chair. My face burned from Danse’s slap and my wrists were chafed raw from the zip ties holding them together behind the chair.  
Zimmer laughed. It was a cold laugh, no warmth in it at all. “This area is like the Institute. You can only get in by molecular relay. This is the section of the Black League where all the research is done and where all the important equipment is kept. The part that would be accessible if the idiot Brotherhood could ever find us is where the armed force of the so-called Black League is. Even if breached, we are still untouchable here.”  
“M7-97, release Z and keep a hold of her as you follow me,” he ordered without even looking at Danse. “Use this,” he held up a scalpel.  
Danse took the surgical knife and cut through the ties around my ankles and wrists with precision, without touching my flesh at all. He sliced the binding around my ribs. Then he lifted me by the arm. He took hold of my arm firmly and waited, looking straight ahead. No expression on that face. Nothing.  
“Armitage, please come as well, and guard the rear,” Zimmer ordered.  
“Yes, sir, Dr. Zimmer,” Armitage came and stood behind me.  
We left the cavernous room and entered a hallway. There was a sealed passageway which opened at the wave of Zimmer’s hand. A capsule shaped vehicle stood in front of us and a long tube of a tunnel was with tracks on the bottom that curved around a bend and out of sight.  
“Come, come,” he motioned briskly, “Get in, get in.”  
Danse got in and pulled me after him onto the middle seat. Zimmer took the front seat. Armitage took the rear seat. The door whispered shut and the capsule began to move very quickly without any discernable sound. Tube lights flashed by too fast to count.   
I placed my hand on Danse’s thigh and squeezed. No response. I kept my hand there anyway. He didn’t brush it away at least.  
IN just moments, Zimmer did something with the controls and the vehicle came to a smooth stop. He climbed out and called, “Come,” without a backwards look.  
I had no weapon. I had two bodyguards and one old man to take down. I had to wait for the perfect opportunity.   
We were in a large, half circle observation room. Two men in armor stood guard in here, silent and standing at attention. In front of us was a scene that could have been pre-war utopia. A veritable Garden of Eden. There were dozens of leafy trees – several species. A doe and her fawn walked softly between the trunks of oaks, maples and elms. I recognized berry bushes. I saw rabbits and squirrels. And robins and wrens. The hills in the distance were covered in lush greenery. Birdsong came through some speakers above our heads.   
“How...?” I was stunned. This was too big to comprehend.  
“Before the war, there was some doomsday preparation going on. Here under the Adirondack Environmental Department, there were frozen embryos of animals and seeds. These are not synthetic creations. These are the real deal,” Zimmer said proudly. “Artificial sky, though. We are deep underground where no unwanted gamma rays can reach us.”  
I stood in silent wonder as the world I had known before the bombs was displayed beyond the glass wall. I saw other animals in the distance. Moose? Elk? There was a pond, with beaver dam included to my left. There was wetness on my face. I reached up with my free hand. I was weeping.  
Zimmer was watching me with a smile on his face. He was enjoying my awe. That’s what this was about. He had an ego as large as my son’s.  
Danse was the victim of two mad scientist’s battle of the egos. I hated Zimmer at that moment, as much as I have ever hated anyone or anything.  
“Now, come and see what’s next,” he got back into the caspule of a vehicle and Danse pushed me in and climbed in after me, not letting go of my arm.  
The bullet of a vehicle shot forward and came to another stop in another five minutes or so. Again, we clambered out and again we were in an observation/control room. There were monitors lining two walls, and on those monitors I saw people I knew. The people he had kidnapped from their homes. I saw Erin and Austin, together in a room with an armored soldier standing watch over them.   
“Natural conception allows for natural selection at its best, in my opinion. We have paired up non-irradiated people and are also attempting to cross breed some of those men and women with those who are immune to radiation. We will leave no stone unturned in our research. You do know, since you have been above ground for quite a bit of time now, that mankind is nowhere even near replacement rate and is on its way to slow extinction at the pace they are procreating. Too many have poor fertility due to radiation exposure. It’s one of the first things to go. ”  
“You can’t force people to mate!” I exclaimed.  
“Well, actually, I can,” he said smugly, “threaten to kill a few children, a few precious leaders, and people will do as you ask as long as everyone stays safe. And I guarantee safety and freedom from radiation and they get the beauty of my re-created Eden. They have parks here, and woods and pools of clear water to swim in. They just have to fuck and make babies. Not such a bad deal. Actually, my dear, this is where you are going to end up. You see, your son’s predecessor wanted clean DNA, pre-war DNA to make the perfect synthetic man – your DNA only has value to me as a breeder. I still haven’t decided who I will pair you up with though. He has to have great intelligence and I would prefer attractiveness and strength.”  
I looked aghast at him.   
“The child you are carrying now,” he rubbed his chin, “Maxson’s child, yes? Don’t look surprised. I have assets everywhere. I have a few in the Brotherhood. This child could have value if the Brotherhood keep pestering me like the mental gnats they are, so we will let the pregnancy continue naturally. I haven’t decided yet.” He scratched his head and looked distracted and then said, “Come, there’s more!”  
He didn’t know, I suddenly realized. He had no idea Danse could make babies. Shaun and he had both been keeping their own secrets.  
Back into the capsule for the third stop. Here there were several armed guards. We entered a huge space, filled with scientific equipment, computers and machines. There were two dozen or so people in lab coats all looking busy as beavers.  
Then I saw one I recognized from the Institute - Dr. Binet. I remembered him as being kind and telling another scientist that synths had REM in their sleep and he thought they had souls. He thought that what they were doing was wrong.   
“May I speak with some of your people?” I asked.  
“Certainly. M7-97, let her lead you to who she wants to speak to, but don’t let her go.”  
Danse’s grip tightened on my arm, but he let me go to Dr. Binet.  
“You!” Alfred Binet said, “What are you doing here? Going to blow up this place too?”  
“Dr. Binet, please, we got everyone out we could. What the Institute was doing - and you probably don’t know the half of it – was very, very wrong. What I want to know is if you are here of your own free will. The Minutemen and the Commonwealth are building a science center that will be for the benefit of all – and a school for those who want to learn. Do you truly believe in what Zimmer is doing? He is using people as lab rats, forcing them to breed to his tastes.” I looked into his eyes, hoping to see signs of some decency and integrity. I choked out, “He wants to put me in there!”  
He sighed and shook his head, “I’m sorry, then, Z. To answer your question - no. He had his soldiers round up as many of us as they could find and brought us here. He didn’t offer the option of choice. But most of us wouldn’t have known what to do with one anyway. We had no clue where to go or how to survive above ground. We have spent our entire lives in the Institute and a few of us were raising our families there. No one put up any resistance. Besides, he was one of ours. We thought it was a miraculous rescue. It turned out the Institute had no knowledge of the Consortium and that Zimmer had started a whole new entity.”

“I’m telling you now; there is a place for you. No one should be forced against their will to live as he decides. Above ground, people are rebuilding the world. All are accepted if they are decent people. No one is trying to run people’s lives, just trying to help each other up. I don’t know if I can get out of this place, but if I do, I just wanted you to know.”  
“For whatever that is worth, thank you. It just seems that there are no ‘good guys’ in this story,” he said sadly.  
“I know. I’m sorry for the destruction of your home,” I whispered. “Danse, help me to find Dr. Amari,” I said, testing his response. There was none. Damn.   
“Amari? She was just brought here. They set her up in the next room,” Binet pointed to the left.  
I pulled and Danse followed, with his grip still firm.   
Dr. Amari was working on a terminal. Zimmer had her entire basement lab brought here, it looked like. The two memory loungers were sitting in the exact position I had last seen them in Goodneighbor.  
“Dr. Amari!” I called.  
She looked up, shocked, and tears filled her eyes. I pulled Danse impatiently to her and we embraced. “O my heavens, Z! What are you doing here?”  
I ignored her question and asked, “What is he holding over your head?”  
“Goodneighbor,” she replied, tears streaking her face,  
“What...?” I didn’t understand.  
“The whole town. He will raze it to the ground if I don’t produce for him. He wants to be placed in a synth body. Soon.”  
“He wants Danse,” I whispered, still bereft at the thought.   
Dr. Amari studied Danse’s face, and turned to me, with a look of sorrow and horror, “What has he done to him? Has he performed a mind-wipe on him?”  
“He had preprogrammed an obedience code or some such thing in him, which he just triggered. I don’t know what to do. Is there anything you can do?”

“I could try, but it might take months or it might not be something I can touch. And I know I can do nothing here.”  
“I know, I know…it’s just if I get out…and get everyone out…” I stopped, knowing how impossible that sounded. The tears were just leaking out of me, with no stopping.  
“I would do whatever I could, Z, I promise,” she said, huskily, but there was no hope in her voice.  
Then Zimmer called Danse to him, and he pulled me away from Dr. Amari. She was holding her face as we turned the corner.  
“Danse,” I hissed at him, “You promised we would never be separated, you promised! You always keep your promises. It’s who you are.”  
There was no response from him at all.  
We turned the corner and Zimmer was waiting, with a slight smile on his hateful face.  
“M7-97, relay Z’s conversations to me, please,” Zimmer asked.  
Danse repeated all the conversations I just had, word for word with Dr. Binet and Amari.

Zimmer shook his head sadly at me, “Tut-tut, my dear, you still think he is in some way yours? He is all mine. All. Mine.” He turned to Danse. “Come, bring her.”  
We got back into the caspsule car and went ahead for one more hop on the journey which I assumed was under the mountains. This looked to be the prison section of Zimmer’s realm. There were two guards on duty here. Black armor and helmets with large rifles. They saluted Zimmer and he gave them a quick nod.  
“Armitage, take her to a cell. Lock them in, Then come back to me. Danse, you will punish her. Beat her, but do not leave permanent damage and don’t kill the baby. Then you will watch her, until such time as I call for you again.”  
“Yes, Dr. Zimmer,” both Armitage and Danse said at the same time.   
Creepy.  
The door latched closed with the sound of finality and hopelessness.  
Danse faced me, and flexed his shoulders and neck. He approached me. He was looking at me at least.  
“I love you, Danse, you can beat this thing. You are still you, you can fight –“ he backhanded me across the face and I fell on my butt.  
I struggled back up and went to him, blood trickled from my nose and mouth, “I love you and I love our family. No one can take that away from – “he kicked out and hit my thigh with enough force to bruise but not break. I fell again. I was dizzy and hurting. My leg did not want to cooperate in getting me up again.  
On my hands and knees, I used the small sink in the cell to help me up.  
I threw myself into him and tried to kiss him, he began to push me away, hand upraised for the next blow, then froze.  
He shook his head. Then he punched me in the shoulder. I spun away, but kept my feet. I went to him again. I sought his soul in his eyes. There was something there, I knew it.  
He began to shake, at first just a tremor and then more violently. He did not move an inch. Then he jumped, aiming a high kick and struck something on the wall. Maybe a camera, I thought.  
“I love you. I will always love you.” I said. He let me come close and then I was kissing him.  
This time, his mouth locked onto mine and he moaned as if in agony. He reached for my breast and held it, squeezing hard. Then reached down and felt my abdomen, and then cupped it gently.  
He took my hand and pushed it onto his erection. I held on and squeezed gently. He forced his tongue into my mouth and took possession of my mouth. He pulled at my top, and I helped him remove it, then my makeshift bra followed my shirt to the floor. Then he unbuttoned my pants and I pushed them down and kicked them off and away.   
He groaned and shook as if taken by a terrible fever. I unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. I pulled him down on top of me, on the prison cot and guided him into me. I wasn’t ready for him, but I needed him and I wanted him back. I needed to have him claim me as his right now. I needed to claim him.  
“He can’t have you, you’re mine,” I hissed as I thrust my hips up into him.  
“Yours,” he echoed as he thrust back. “I am yours and you are mine, and mine alone,” he growled as he pushed into me deeper.  
It was as if it were our first time again. He thrust furiously, out-of-control, until he peaked and I felt the hot wetness of his climax.   
“Z,” he said, hoarse and shaking all over violently, collapsing on top of me, his face in my neck, “They are coming because I broke the camera.”  
I nodded and curled up on the cot, looking beat up. Which I was. I huddled like a broken, naked woman on the cot, while he stood and buttoned his pants. He strode to the door, then froze in the position of a soldier on guard duty, although he was still shaking slightly.  
We heard the guard before we saw him.  
One of the guards opened the outer door and came to the cell. “Armitage reports the camera is out.” he barked.  
He unlocked the cell door and entered. “What the fuck--?” he barked as he saw me and then he looked at Danse with horror.  
“You fucking raped her?”  
Danse was silent. There was no expression on his face. I had a moment of terror, thinking I had lost him again. But as the guard was looking me over, Danse winked. I sighed.  
“What happened here, ma’am?” he asked.  
I certainly wasn’t going to tell him anything. I sobbed out a pitiful sound as though in awful pain.  
The guard cursed under his breath and opened the door. “Damn synths,” he growled. “What the fuck is Zimmer thinking?”  
He shouted at Danse, “You broke the camera so you could fucking rape the woman?” At Danse’s nonreaction – he shook his head in disgust. He strode past Danse and squatted down and was examining the broken camera on the floor when Danse’s fist came down on the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious or dead.   
Danse came to me and squatted down by my side and said raggedly, “I love you. The whole time, I was still me, but locked away. I had to do what he wanted. But I never stopped. I never stopped loving you. I had no control over my own body.” His eyes winced and looked as though he was in agonizing pain. “I was a puppet, not a man.”  
His face darkened, “I am going to kill him, Z. I have to.” He was still shaking, “No one should be able to steal someone’s will from them.”  
“I am going to help you,” I said, my anger burning bright.   
“I lost my beacon. Did they find yours?” I was shocked. I hadn’t even thought about Haylen’s gift. I lifted my bra from the floor and the little beacon’s light was blinking steadily. I looked at Danse, wide-eyed.   
“I forgot about it…” I murmured.  
“We are deep underground with no entrances or exits; they won’t be able to get to this place,” Danse said, “We have to get the beacon through the molecular relay so they can find it.”  
I pulled on my clothes quickly, tucking the little blinking beacon back into my homemade bra. I needed one now with the heaviness of my breasts – one of the side effects of being pregnant.  
We left through the open cell door. Danse moved without a sound, and quickly.  
He padded silently up behind the second guard and snapped his head to the side, audibly breaking his neck. Just. Instantly. Easily. He lowered the body gently to the floor.  
As we made our way down the tube tunnel, walking between the tracks, it suddenly hit me. I had used the secret code on him. “Danse, what did the other code do? The Theta one?”  
“I’m not completely sure. I am physically stronger than I believed I was. I am supposed to be pretty much immune to radiation too. Supposed to be smarter too. And faster.”  
“How’s your memory?”  
“Good,” he said, thinking, tilting his head, “Actually, perfect.”  
“Okay, super-hero. How do we get out of here?”  
“Follow me,” he said.  
We passed the labs, the breeding section, and then the display of nature’s unirradiated grandeur. We proceeded silently as we approached Zimmer’s area. The seal on the tunnel wasn’t closed. We pressed ourselves close again the tube wall and listened intently.   
Zimmer was at his desk, and Armitage stood by his side unmoving.  
“Double damnation!” Zimmer howled, “How did they find the base? It’s impossible!”  
He touched something on the panel in his desk top and spoke loudly and clearly, “All nonessential personnel are to report to the relay immediately. Your comrades need back up. The Brotherhood is assaulting the base.”  
I could see the entire desktop was a giant flat monitor. On it was camera feed. I saw the Brotherhood climbing out of vertibirds on the ground.  
Danse motioned for me to follow him. We went silently and slowly at first, then ran. We ran toward the nature observation area and came face to face into two guards who were running towards Zimmer’s area. With impossible speed, Danse backhanded one and brought his fist down on the back of the other’s head. He whipped around and stomped on the first man’s throat and crushed his windpipe. It was over in two seconds. He was impossibly fast.  
“Get this one’s uniform and helmet. He’s the smaller of the two,” he said quietly.  
It was the quickest change of clothes I have every done. We took their rifles and batons too.  
We jogged back to Zimmer’s area and joined the several soldiers who were also arriving.  
We followed them keeping the exact pace and posture his men held. Danse was looking at something. I followed his line of sight. There were two huge maps on the wall. I recognized that one was the site where we had just toured. The other must be the Black League’s armed forces base.  
I recognized the relay chamber. It looked just like the one in the Institute. We were with the third group that was sent.   
Danse met my eyes as the relay hummed and everything went white.

THIS WAS THE OPPORTUNITY HE HAD been waiting for, Arthur decided. His AWOL scribe, Sarah Haylen had radioed in a panic. Danse and Z had been taken by the Black League, but she had given them homing beacons and was tracing the signals. Danse’s signal disappeared after several miles, but Z’s was still giving off its signal. They could find them.  
Finally.  
He sent for his most elite fighters.   
Before they arrived, he pulled Knight Forquar to him. “I am giving you an order you must never acknowledge. I want Danse killed in the crossfire. You are responsible for the success of this mission. Do it.”   
“Yes, Elder Maxson,” he said, thumping his chest.  
Six vertibirds soared to pick up Haylen and her tracking device. She would be arrested of course, after the mission.  
Finally. He would get to face the enemy. He would crush them. And finally, he would destroy his competitor for Z’s affections. Finally.


	21. The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle between the Brotherhood and the Black League begins. Will Z and Danse survive it?

At first I thought the relay had malfunctioned. We were in the same place. We hadn’t gone anywhere. But the other soldiers immediately went out a door in front of us. There hadn’t been a door in front of us before. It had been to the side. The chambers were identical in every other aspect.  
Before I had my senses fully functional, Danse grabbed the last two soldiers by the napes of their uniform necks. He smashed their heads together, then broke their necks, one after the other.  
I took the homing beacon and dropped it behind the relay, out of sight. The relay was the only way we would every get our people out of here. And it was the only way we could rid the world of Zimmer.  
The sound of battle outside had muffled any sound Danse had made and the other two soldiers had continued on out the door without suspecting there could be an enemy behind them.  
When I stepped out of the door with Danse, it took me several seconds to register what I seeing. We were on a mountain plateau. The Brotherhood vertibirds were battling for their lives against an invisible enemy. Laser beams out of thin air were shooting them down.  
I looked for the little box on my left shoulder. There it was. I pressed the button on it and then reached for Danse to activate his. He nodded.  
I looked back out. The world changed in an instant. Whoever activated the stealth field could see everything using it. That was very handy. Made sense, too. Otherwise the Black League soldiers would be killing each other, shooting blind.  
We were high atop a mountain fastness – a fortress, really, carved out of the mountain’s face itself.  
There was some kind of huge laser cannon mounted atop the fortress that was shooting a three foot diameter laser blast into the Brotherhood forces. I saw two others across the valley on the top of fortresses just like this one. In the valley below were a dozen large buildings which had been hidden under the huge stealth field. I tried to count the number of vertibirds parked on helipads down there and then the soldiers.  
There were more than a dozen vertibirds, not counting the ones hounding the BOS birds. There looked to be over a hundred men on the ground. Who knew how many were still in the buildings down there.  
“We have to take out that cannon,” Danse said after observing our surroundings for several seconds. “Watch my back, Z” and he started to scale the steep wall of the mountain.  
I stayed where I was, scanning for anyone looking Danse’s way, but so far no one had noticed the man in black armor climbing up the dark, dark rock of the mountain. He was in shadow. He was nearly invisible. And he was uncannily fast.  
When he had climbed over the topmost wall, I lost sight of him. I started the climb. I was ten times slower than he had been, but I was not going to rush and lose my grip and then die by falling off a stupid rock.  
Before I reached the top, I saw when Danse started targeting the now visible Black League vertibirds.  
Two went down in flames, crashing into the steep sides of the mountain, then a third. It fell, flaming, into the valley below. I followed its progress. It fell right into a largish concrete building, where heat waves seemed to be rising up into the air. As the building collapsed under the vertibird, the air was suddenly wavering as if it was water rippling,  
I had a feeling I knew what had just happened. I turned off my stealth device and could still see the base. That building must’ve been the location of the supercomputer that generated the stealth field signal. A happy accident?  
Now the Brotherhood could see the enemy at least.  
It looked like The Black League outnumbered them 6 to one, easily.  
As I finally crested the top of the rock where the cannon was, I threw my leg over the top of the wall and hoisted myself over it. Danse was aiming the cannon at one of the other cannons and the laser beam hit it head on. It took several seconds, and it was too bright to look at directly. Danse had found some protective eyewear that he must have gotten it from the soldier manning the cannon before he took him out. The other cannon blew up with a terrible explosion – so loud it seemed to break the sky. My ears were ringing.  
Danse aimed at the last cannon and took it out too. Then the vertibirds started dropping bombs on us. Danse scooped me up and went over the wall.  
He tucked us into a slight hollow in the mountain wall, while stone and rock rained down all around us.  
Above us, the last laser cannon blew up with a roar and debris blown everywhere. They had blown up their own cannon in their effort to get us.  
“We’ve got to get down there, and make sure those other ‘birds don’t get in the air.” Danse said studying the force below.  
“Ummm, okay,” I said, looking at the steep mountainside. I didn’t want to try and make that descent. It looked deadly. “You think there’s an elevator or something?”  
He looked at me and looked at the descent, gauging. I knew what that look said. He could make the descent, but he didn’t want me to try. “There was a door that looked like it could be one in the relay chamber. But the soldiers came out the same door we did. Can you climb up if you stand on my shoulders? You should be able to get back onto the plateau” he said.  
I climbed and boosted myself to the top ledge of the plateau and then I saw it. A carved stairway hidden on the side, where we couldn’t have seen it unless we knew it was there.  
Danse pulled himself up after me, finding invisible finger holds and muscling his way up. We made our way quickly down the narrow and steep stairs, carved from the very bedrock.  
I looked up several times to watch the battle. The Brotherhood were better fliers. The other pilots must have become accustomed to relying on their stealth tech. They were sloppy compared to the BOS pilots who were flying circles around them and shooting away. I felt a burst of pride at the BOS pilots’ skill.  
The Brotherhood on the ground were outnumbered, but again, they were more honed and they were fast. The Black League ground fighters were better than their pilots, but they too were just a touch less disciplined than their BOS counterparts. They would pay for their cockiness, and their reliance on the stealth tech, I thought. Most of their ground force were in the black power armor.  
The Brotherhood needed all the help they could get.  
When we reached the bottom Danse told me to cover him again as he made his way to their airfield. I laid down a barrage of laser fire as he went.  
He went from one vertibird to the next, doing something in each one that only took seconds. He ran back to me. I kept the laser rifle blasting the entire time. My hands were getting fatigued.  
He had two handfuls of small electronic parts.  
“Those ‘birds won’t be joining the battle,” he said, grinning. He tucked them into the side packs that came with the uniforms and armor we had taken. “Now, let’s go help the Brotherhood, Z.”  
We entered the edge of the battle and began taking out one flank of their soldiers.  
Then they realized we were there. A dozen Black League soldiers began to make their way towards us, using broken concrete and huge rocks as shelter, as they went from one to the other, getting closer and closer.  
Danse, pulled me close and kissed me hard. Then he smiled, “Cover me again, Z, one more time.”  
Then he dashed out, too fast to follow, and leaping over a boulder, took out the man behind it. Then he ran and jumped and blasted while he was in mid-air and took out another.  
I quit watching him, and started looking at who was aiming for him. They all were. I aimed carefully, and a female Black League soldier fell, shot between the eyes. She hadn’t been in power armor.  
I watched as Danse seemingly flew through the air to land atop a large shard of broken rock and shot someone several times behind it. He balanced impossibly on the ball of his foot then leapt down and ran to the next barricade.  
I saw a man stand and aim for Danse. I held my breath, and pulled my trigger. I hit him. His power armor was damaged. Parts of it flew off. He quickly ducked out of sight. I moved to another rock, carefully, and found my target again. Clear shot. I aimed, and with a lucky shot, killed the man with a bullet to the neck, somehow hitting in the small gap between helmet and armor.  
Danse disappeared behind three more of the makeshift barricades, then two men leaped up fled for their lives.  
Those must be the guys with higher IQs, I thought.  
I found a clean line of sight and shot another. I quickly shot again, to finish him. The second shot missed. He returned fire and I ducked.  
I heard Danse roar, and heard the sound of bone breaking. I peeked above my rock. Danse had torn the man’s head off, helmet and all. Eww.  
The last of the men fled.  
Danse came back to me, checked me over and breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Let’s keep moving, soldier,” he said.  
As I scanned the battlefield, I saw that some of the Black League found their way, going the long way around, to the vertibirds on the ground. There was distant cursing, and no one took off.  
We went forward, with knees bent, dashed from cover to cover. Danse was moving slowly for me. I smiled, suddenly filled with a fierce joy. He was mine. He was back. And I had the very strong feeling that his will was truly his own now. No combination of letters and numbers would steal away his soul ever again. I hoped Zimmer was watching this on his stupid desk monitor. In case he was, I shot up my hand with my middle finger extended.  
The air battle still raged overhead, too involved in their individual fights, they were ignoring all of us on the ground. Which was the only thing saving the Brotherhood from being destroyed.  
In front of us, the Brotherhood were fighting for their lives. Several had fallen, their armored corpses strewn across the valley bottom.  
The Black League were shooting from the ground, from the dozens of buildings - out of the top stories of them, sniping at the Brotherhood force.  
We came up behind a good number of the Black League force who were ranged in a semicircle around the remaining Brotherhood soldiers. When we got within shooting range of the enemy we each took a position behind decent cover and began aiming carefully and we took two down before anyone even realized we were there.  
A few of the Brotherhood soldiers saw that they had help and signaled to one another to spread the word. Danse’s hand shot up and gave them a thumbs up, acknowledging them. Then he took out three more of the enemy. His shots were precise and fatal. It took ten good laser hits to take out someone in power armor, and every one of his shots did the maximum damage.  
I took my time, and tried to make every shot a hit. I wasn’t as precise as my husband, but I was very good. Two went down under my fire.  
A bullet whizzed past my nose and I fell back, and scrambled for different cover. Danse had seen. He was scanning the nearby buildings’ windows. He saw something – perhaps a reflected bit of light off the barrel of a gun – and he motioned for me to stay put. He ran, staying low, and went to the building to our right.  
I watched him find the unguarded door and slip in. I peeked around my rock, near the bottom and saw I had a clear shot at another enemy. I took careful aim and pulled the trigger and held it. The laser cut into the soldier’s armor and shredded it. I saw blood and fired again in the same spot, my barrel following his movement. My target went down.  
Then something flew through the air. I pulled back behind my cover and looked up. It was the sniper. Danse was at the upstairs window. He waved at me and disappeared again. The sniper’s body hit the concrete with a sound I hoped I would never have to hear again.  
Moments later, he dashed out of the building and dived behind my rock.  
“Thanks,” I breathed.  
“Anytime, Z,” he gave me a crooked grin.  
The fighting continued for what seemed like hours. I was down to three fusion cells, and I had been very careful not to waste ammo.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the BOS Knights break apart from the others. He slipped back and to the side. Curious, I watched him.  
He slipped into the building closest to us. Maybe he was their sharpshooter. It was a good position for any good sniper.  
I watched the windows that were facing us. It was less than a minute after I had seen the Knight enter the door when I saw the rifle of a barrel swing up and point not at the remaining enemy but at us. It moved in slow motion and as I tracked it, I saw it pass me and center on Danse. I screamed and jumped on him, trying to push him away from the shot that I knew was coming.  
As I landed on him, I heard the crack of the bullet, and felt tremendous force of the shock in my arms as the butt of the rifle in my hand blew into jagged pieces. My hands went instantly numb. I felt pain shoot violently up my arms, from my wrists to my shoulders.  
Then Danse was up and running into the building, and I scrambled to follow.  
When I got to the top of the stairs and found the room they were in, Danse had the man, helmetless, pinned against the wall.  
The Knight was spilling out his words to Danse, talking without taking a breath or a pause.  
“It was…it was Maxson, Paladin. I am sorry. It was wrong, but he’s the Elder. I am sorry. I know you saved our butts out there. You killed the stealth field, you fought them. We wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you…I was following orders. I’m sorry, Paladin…”  
“Forquar, you’re telling me Elder Maxson ordered you to assassinate me?” Danse growled, staring at the man with fierce eyes.  
“Yes, sir. It’s not right, though, sir. Not what I signed up for.” He looked like he might cry.  
Danse released the man and he slumped down and sat hard on the floor.  
“You’re welcome to join me, Forquar. Come back with me to The Castle. I will never ask you to go against your conscience. That’s a promise.”  
“He’s telling you right, Knight,” I said coming to stand next to Danse, “but you have to give your word, on your honor, that you will never follow an order to commit an unjust act again.”  
“I give you my pledge. Here and now. To both of you. I offer you my life, my service and my loyalty. If you’ll have me.” He stood, then knelt on one knee, and bowed his head, his short sword held out like an offering to us.  
I took it and said, “I accept your pledge. Stand now and take your sword. See that is it only used for good.” The words sounded right to my ear and my heart. Danse was looking at me with love and pride in his eyes.  
“I will,” Forquar said firmly and took his sword back and slid it into his scabbard.  
The last few Black League soldiers had apparently surrendered.  
Forquar, Danse and I started across to join the Brotherhood force.  
Then a BOS vertibird careened through the air, on fire and started down towards us.  
“Take cover!” yelled Danse.  
He pulled me up and got us behind one of the boulders close by.  
The vertibird almost made it. The ‘bird was still flying and attempting to make a landing when it cut out and plummeted the last two dozen or so feet. A slow fire was burning in its engine compartment. The vertibird shouldn’t have been able to fly at all – it was half blown apart.  
As soon as it hit the ground, Danse and Forquar ran to it, and Danse came out, carrying a dazed Haylen out of the burning ‘bird. Forquar helped the wounded pilot out. The Knight who was their gunner, climbed out on his own.  
The feeling was coming back to my hands. Other than some abrasions from the flying shrapnel, I was fine.  
I ran to Haylen and hugged her. “Thanks for the beacon,” I told her, with real gratitude. “Thank you, Haylen.”  
Haylen grinned at me, “That’s me, doing my job! No thanks necessary. I’m just amazed they didn’t find yours.”  
“It was in my bra,” I said smiling.  
“I’ll remember that next time I need to hide something,” she said shaking her head.  
“Haylen, all the people and Dr. Amari and Institute people are under the mountain somewhere. The only way in is through a molecular relay. Can you get us in?”  
“I hope so,” she said, “I don’t know if it has to be set to receive on the other end, though.”  
One of the Knights across the expanse of concrete pulled off his helmet. Elder Maxon called for everyone to gather.  
We went. I stood with Danse.  
“I would have words with you, Elder,” Danse said, his voice commanding and firm.  
“I have nothing to say to you, synth,” Maxson spat out, looking at him with open disgust and hate.  
“Oh, I think you do, Elder. Unless, you wish everything I have to say spoken out in the open,” he gave a pointed glance at Forquar, who nodded at Danse and then glared at Maxson.  
Maxson’s face went from regal disgust, to shock and then what might be read as fear. He quickly rearranged his expression to one of expressionless disdain. “Very well,” he said evenly. “Knight Pearson, secure the prisoners in the most suitable building.”  
“I want to come too, Danse,” I said with anger in my heart.  
“Please, Z, this is something I must do – just between he and I,” he said softly, looking at me, searching my eyes for understanding.  
“Alright,” I said, knowing he spoke out of a deep need. This ridiculous competition had to come to an end.  
ARTHUR MAXSON LED THE WAY to an abandoned building to their east. Upon entering, he could tell it was the Black League’s mess hall.  
He led the way to the back, by the kitchens, where no one would overhear them.  
He looked at Danse and felt his hatred bubbling up in him. He wished for nothing more than to blast his head off and have him gone from this world. Forever. Filthy synth.  
“What did you need to speak to me about?” he tried to sound civil, but it came out as a snarl.  
Danse stood tall and unmoved by his anger.  
Then he spoke. “I loved you Arthur, as my Elder, as a man. I would’ve lain down my life a thousand times for you as your Paladin.  
“You have allowed your desire to possess Z to poison your very soul and un-man you.  
“You have fallen so very low, you blackmailed her with the lure of the safety of her loved ones to get her into your bed, making the woman you supposedly loved into your whore. True love is a gift, freely given. It is not something you take by coercion or force.  
“If that was not enough, you took a loyal Knight and charged him to commit a pre-meditated, cold-blooded murder.  
“You have taken the trust and love of those who depend on you and asked them to put their very honor aside for you.  
“Did you really think you could do that and keep your own intact?”  
Danse stepped closer to him and looked into his steel eyes, “It is not too late, Arthur. Redeem your integrity and your manhood. Be true to your word and honor your pact. If you do so, Z and I and the Minutemen will remain your steadfast allies.  
“If not, I will call you by the Litany and challenge you. It’s up to you, Elder Arthur Maxson, to right your course and keep your honor.  
“If we are to remain allies, I am officially declaring that half of the vertibirds here belong to the Minutemen. Forquar and Haylen are to be released to us, freely. Forquar will keep your secret forever and so will I.  
“Let us work together, Elder Maxson, and be what we were called to be – noble men of honor, standing up for all that is good and right.”  
Then Danse quoted the Codex, “We will stand back to back with those that share our convictions and beliefs.”  
Arthur felt something give in him, something break. He knew the truth when he heard it.  
“If she ever wants to come to me, you won’t stop her, will you?” he asked gruffly.  
“Z makes her own choices. I will never stop her from seeking her own happiness,” Danse replied.  
“Then, I re-affirm our alliance. So be it.” Arthur said and then strode out.  
Arthur had to get away from the synth at that moment. He hated the thing, but it had spoken well. He felt deep shame. It was time to step fully back into his vocation, his calling to be the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel – irreproachable, trustworthy. He had almost lost these due to his own actions, and could see it clearly now. 

 

I SAW ARTHUR come out of the building. Something had changed. I didn’t know what, but it was something of significance.  
With two of his officers, Danse and I debriefed Arthur and told him about the underground compound with the Garden of Eden, the breeding area and the laboratories and prison accessible only through the relay.  
Arthur rubbed his face. “Lead the way, then to the relay and let’s see if we can get in there. How many people can it take at a time?”  
“It seemed to do fine with six,” I said.  
We led them to the relay. Six of us, Danse, Arthur, myself, and three Knights got onto the platform while Haylen tried to activate it.  
Nothing happened.  
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” Haylen muttered. Another scribe came to aid her.  
They were both examining all the parts of the relay, when several of lights blinked on.  
Haylen shrugged and said, “Wasn’t anything we did.”  
She pressed the large button to activate the relay and this time it worked.  
When my vision came back, I stepped off the platform, and holding Danse’s hand, we left the chamber. In the control room was Dr. Amari, Gwen, the Overseer of Vault 81, and Allison Filmore, the chief engineer of the Institute and some faces I didn’t know waiting for us.  
Arthur and his Knights immediately began scouting out the area for enemies, and left the welcoming committee to me.  
Allison came to us, “We needed the relay operational at both ends to get in and out,” she explained, “Zimmer is gone. There’s another relay at the end of the tunnel, and he had explosives rigged so that it blew up after he left,” Allison looked directly at me, “I haven’t forgiven you, Z, for destroying the Institute, but I know that everyone got out who didn’t fight you, and I know why you did what you did. Zimmer kidnapping innocent people for his breeding program was just wrong. I am so tired of all this. I want out.”  
“You’ve got it. Anywhere you want to go.” I promised.  
“Binet said something about a science center? A school?” she asked  
“It’s not here yet, but it’s coming.”  
“That’s where I want to be,” she affirmed.  
“Consider it done,” I said, shaking her hand.  
Amari came to me and embraced me. She looked at Danse, her eyes widening, “You’re back with us, Danse?” she whispered.  
“Never going away again,” he promised. “I broke whatever they put in my head – I am my own now.”  
“How-?” she shook her head, “Never mind, later, perhaps. Do you have a way to get us home?”  
“Yes. Are there any guards left? Can we get everyone out?”  
Gwen answered my question, “There was only a handful of Zimmer’s men left. We killed them.” She looked shell-shocked, but unhurt. “We aren’t fighters, but we were very pissed off.”  
“Austin and Erin?” I asked, remembering their imprisonment and their guard.  
“We got them,” Gwen assured me.  
Everything was as Allison told us. The place was secured. Zimmer and Armitage and whatever people he took with him were long gone, the relay destroyed.  
Six by six we got everyone out.  
Dr. Clayton Holdren, the Institute’s BioScience man said he was staying to tend to the life in the Eden dome and two others offered to stay with him.  
Forquar, Danse and Haylen all could pilot vertibirds. None of them were the hotshot ace pilots that the BOS had, but they knew enough to fly safely. They each took a load of passengers to bring them home. I rode with the Vault 81 group, with Danse flying the ‘bird.  
Arthur and his men took Dr. Amari and the Children of Atom in their vertibirds. They offered to help carry her lab equipment to her in a future run.  
No one wanted to go into the Glowing Sea and we had not made the preparations for such a journey, so the Children were brought to The Castle, where Brother Maynard was awaiting word of his adopted family.  
There was enough tech at the Black League’s compound to keep the Brotherhood scribes busy for years.  
They were welcome to it. I just wanted to get everyone home where they belonged.  
And we did.


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Showdown

"Sir, if you can’t control yourself, I am going to have to ask you to leave,” said Rachel firmly.  
“I will not leave. Can’t you do anything for her? She is suffering! Are you sure she’s not in danger? Should she be in this much pain?” Danse was frowning deeply at the doctor and seemed to loom over her.  
“I can assure you, Danse, that there is nothing extraordinary going on here. It’s as old as time what she’s going through. So far, there is nothing to be concerned about. Everything is proceeding normally. The baby is in the proper position and the contractions are moving the baby along quite nicely. It just takes time. Now, please, give me some space, Danse.”  
I was making sounds that sounded more like a brahmin than a woman. I recognized the stage of transition when it came. This was all happening faster than the first time, and for that I was very, very grateful.  
I grabbed Danse’s hand, knowing I was using too much force, but couldn’t stop myself. The powerful contractions had become too intense, and I couldn’t tell where one started and the other stopped. I made more brahmin sounds and felt something big give.  
“Ahh, there, you see? The baby’s head. Seems like he is going to be dark haired.”  
Danse craned his head to see, but there was nothing. “Where is he?” he barked at Rachel.  
“It goes back in between contractions. No worry, Danse. Just watch. The next few pushes and the child will be born.”  
And now, I was pushing until I thought the veins would burst in my face and I would push all my insides out. Rachel’s encouragements were only heard in the background as my whole body focused on getting this baby out of me!  
I was in and out of awareness. The pain and the urgency and the pressure was too much. I cried out in my agony. Danse had a death grip on my death grip.  
Then, I heard my baby’s lusty cry and in an instant, the last six hours disappeared like shadows banished by a ray of sun ray from my mind.  
“Congratulations, Z. You have a beautiful, healthy baby daughter.”  
“Oh,” I whispered hoarsely, “Hello, little Hope.” She placed her on my cushy abdomen, and I reached out and held her. I studied her perfect little face, her body. She was a wee bit squished from her journey through the birth canal, but she was lovely. She had a head full of nearly black hair. Long fingers. Blue eyes.  
I felt another terrible urge to push, the pressure was relentless. I didn’t remember anything like this from my first time.  
“Oh!” Rachel exclaimed in surprise, “Wait! Here, Danse, you take Hope.”  
Danse gingerly took his newborn daughter,  
“Push again, Z, please?”  
This one was easier, but again, I felt something too big give way. I heard another cry, different from Hope’s. No. It couldn’t be.  
“Congratulations, Z, you have another daughter,” Rachel laughed joyfully. “Identical twins,” she announced.  
“Hello, Harmony,” I breathed.  
She bundled up one and then the other baby and had Danse hold Harmony while Hope found my warm breast and began to suckle strongly.  
“Care to cut the cords, Danse?” Rachel said, holding up the scissors for him.  
Danse, wordlessly followed Rachel’s directions and cut the umbilical cords, one after the other. He was speechless. He had a huge smile on his face, as he thoroughly examined the bundle in his arms.  
When Rachel urged me, I gave a few last pushes and the placentas came out with one good contraction.  
“Everything looks perfect,” Rachel commented upon examining both the placentas, and I nodded. She placed a clean bunch of soft rags under me and took away the messy ones.  
“Thanks, Rachel,” I said with heartfelt gratitude at her presence here in the Castle. It’s one thing to have a medic for emergencies, another to have a full-fledged doctor who can perform surgery and more. Vault 81 would have to do without her for awhile. Dr. Garner had simply disappeared. We had no idea what happened to him.  
“Could you please send Shaun in, Doctor?” I asked.  
“Of course,” she replied, washing her hands and then leaving. “I’ll be back in a bit. To make sure you and the babes are still doing good.”  
Danse led Shaun to his new little sisters. He gazed down upon Hope and Harmony, nursing at my breasts, in an odd criss-cross position across my abdomen.  
Shaun frowned as he examined them, “They’re kind of strange looking. Are they supposed to look like that?”  
I laughed softly. “Yes, Shaun ... you looked …” I stopped short, knowing I was remembering my baby Shaun and his birth, but I continued, “a bit worse for wear when on your birthday.”  
Danse kissed me, my sour mouth and all, and I put those thoughts from my mind.  
I had my chosen family surrounding me. It was as good as it gets in the Wasteland.  
Ten Days Later  
Curie came to us. We shooed everyone else out.  
“Is something wrong, Curie?” I asked, alarmed, at the expression on her face.  
“No,” Curie spoke slowly, carefully, “I weel just come out and say it, zen – Danse is Hope and Harmony’s father – zere is no question, no ozzer possibeelity.”  
Danse squeezed my hand, and we smiled at each other. My joy was too powerful, if felt as if my chest would burst.  
“I knew it,” I said happily, “Did you see their hands? They are Danse’s. And his hair.”  
“You did?” Curie asked, tilting her head, “Ees zees something all synths can do?”  
“No, Curie. Sorry. Just Danse. Probably Shaun, and now these two,” I said softly. “And no one can know, Curie. They would want to kill them; they would destroy Danse, Shaun, Hope and Harmony.”  
“Why?” she cried, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes.  
“They are synths that can reproduce. Curie, there are still so many who are afraid of synths and who hate them because of that fear. Some have given them cause for that fear. Anyone who feared the Institute and their replacing people with synths would want them killed.”  
“I weel keep eet secret for as long as ees necessary, then. I promise,” she said.  
“Curie,” Danse said, “You do have the fake DNA sample ready for the Elder, do you not?”  
“Oui, monsieur Danse, I have eet. Een zee refrigerator. Eet weel be tricky to have their Dr. Cade believe he ees taking the saliva sample, but I have an idea,” she smiled at us.

 

END OF BOOK I  
WATCH FOR BOOK II: 


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